real good
day talkin' over old times--there, don't le' 's go all over it again!
I've always heard she'd made that old house of her aunt Bascoms' where
she lives look real handsome. I once heard her best parlor carpet
described as being an elegant carpet, different from any there was
round here. Why, nobody couldn't be more cordial, Miss Pickett; you
ain't goin' to give out just at the last?"

"Oh, no!" answered the visitor hastily; "no, 'm! I want to go full as
much as you do, Mis' Flagg, but you see I never was so well acquainted
with Mis' Cap'n Timms, an' I always seem to dread putting myself
for'ard. She certain was very urgent, an' she said plain enough to
come any day next week, an' here 'tis Wednesday, though of course she
wouldn't look for us either Monday or Tuesday. 'T will be a real
pleasant occasion, an' now we've been to the conference it don't seem
near so much effort to start."

"Why, I don't think nothin' of it," said Mrs. Flagg proudly. "We shall
have a grand good time, goin' together an' all, I feel sure."

Miss Pickett still played with her syringa flower, tapping her thin
cheek, and twirling the stem with her fingers. She looked as if she
were going to say something more, but after a moment's hesitation she
turned away.

"Good-afternoon, Mis' Flagg," she said formally, looking up with a
quick little smile; "I enjoyed my call; I hope I ain't kep' you too
late; I don't know but what it's 'most tea-tune. Well, I shall look
for you in the mornin'."

"Good-afternoon, Miss Pickett; I'm glad I was in when you came. Call
again, won't you?" said Mrs. Flagg. "Yes; you may expect me in good
season," and so they parted. Miss Pickett went out at the neat
clicking gate in the white fence, and Mrs. Flagg a moment later looked
out of her sitting-room window to see if the gate were latched, and
felt the least bit disappointed to find that it was. She sometimes
went out after the departure of a guest, and fastened the gate herself
with a loud, rebuking sound. Both of these Woodville women lived
alone, and were very precise in their way of doing things.

II.

The next morning dawned clear and bright, and Miss Pickett rose even
earlier than usual. She found it most difficult to decide which of her
dresses would be best to wear. Summer was still so young that the day
had all the freshness of spring, but when the two friends walked away
together along the shady street, with a chorus of golden robins
singing hig