again in this house, I shall take care to say that it is certainly not
out of dislike to Miss Emily."

"You need say nothing of the sort," Emily quietly remarked.

"And still less," Francine proceeded, without noticing the
interruption--"still less through any disagreeable remembrances of Miss
Emily's aunt."

Mrs. Ellmother saw the trap that had been set for her. "It won't do,
miss," she said.

"What won't do?"

"Trying to pump me."

Francine burst out laughing. Emily noticed an artificial ring in her
gayety which suggested that she was exasperated, rather than amused, by
the repulse which had baffled her curiosity once more.

Mrs. Ellmother reminded the merry young lady that the proposed
arrangement between them had not been concluded yet. "Am I to
understand, miss, that you will keep a place open for me in your
service?"

"You are to understand," Francine replied sharply, "that I must have
Miss Ladd's approval before I can engage you. Suppose you come to
Brighton? I will pay your fare, of course."

"Never mind my fare, miss. Will you give up pumping?"

"Make your mind easy. It's quite useless to attempt pumping _you_. When
will you come?"

Mrs. Ellmother pleaded for a little delay. "I'm altering my gowns," she
said. "I get thinner and thinner--don't I, Miss Emily? My work won't be
done before Thursday."

"Let us say Friday, then," Francine proposed.

"Friday!" Mrs. Ellmother exclaimed. "You forget that Friday is an
unlucky day."

"I forgot that, certainly! How can you be so absurdly superstitious."

"You may call it what you like, miss. I have good reason to think as I
do. I was married on a Friday--and a bitter bad marriage it turned out
to be. Superstitious, indeed! You don't know what my experience has
been. My only sister was one of a party of thirteen at dinner; and she
died within the year. If we are to get on together nicely, I'll take
that journey on Saturday, if you please."

"Anything to satisfy you," Francine agreed; "there is the address. Come
in the middle of the day, and we will give you your dinner. No fear
of our being thirteen in number. What will you do, if you have the
misfortune to spill the salt?"

"Take a pinch between my finger and thumb, and throw it over my left
shoulder," Mrs. Ellmother answered gravely. "Good-day, miss."

"Good-day."

Emily followed the departing visitor out to the hall. She had seen
and heard enough to decide her on trying to break off the propos