placidly rocked back and forth knitting lace for a petticoat for
Henrietta.

"Of course, Glendale doesn't really care about the railroad; in fact, we
would much rather not have our seclusion broken in upon, especially as
they might choose the route they have prospected"--with a glance at
Sallie--"but it is to show them our friendliness, more Bolivar than the
actual Commission, and our desire to rejoice with them in their good
fortune. It would be very mean spirited of us to ignore them and not
assist them in entertaining their guests, especially as some of them
must be invited. We've never been in such an attitude as that to
Bolivar!"

"Exactly, Martha," answered Aunt Augusta with relief. "The thought of
proud old Glendale putting herself in an attitude of municipal sulks
towards common Bolivar seemed an unbearable disgrace to me. Didn't we
invite them up for a great fish-fry on the river when they opened that
odious soap factory, and ask them to let us help take care of some of
their delegates when they had the Methodist Conference? They sent one of
the two bishops to you, you remember, Martha, and I am sure your
entertainment of him was so lavish that he went home ill. No man said
us nay in the exercising our right of religious hospitality, why should
they in our civic? We must not allow the town to put us in such an
attitude! Must Not! It was for this that I called this meeting at
Evelina's, as she was the one to propose this public-spirited and
creditable plan."

"But what shall we do if they don't want to have it?" asked Mamie.

"I have asked, when did the men of Glendale begin to dictate to the
women as to whom they should offer their hospitality?" answered Aunt
Augusta, as she arose to her feet. "Are we free women, and have we, or
have we not, command of our own storerooms and our own servants and our
own time and strength?"

And as I looked up at the tall, fierce, white-haired old dame of high
degree, daughter of the women of the Colonies and the women of the
Wilderness days, I got exactly the same sensation I had when I saw the
Goddess of Liberty loom up out of the mist as I sailed into the harbor
of my own land from a foreign one. And what I was feeling I knew every
woman present was feeling in a greater or less degree, except perhaps
Sallie, for her face was a puzzle of sore amazement and a pleading
desire for further sleep.

"Have we or have we not?" Aunt Augusta again demanded, and just then a
most