feel the moment you meet her the difference between your clothes and
hers. I had almost forgotten this, but the second she stepped from the
train I was invisibly informed of the distance between us. I had put
on my best, and Aubrey said I looked very well, but in Bee's first
sweeping glance at me I felt sure that my dress was wrong in the back.

The carriage drove up, and, as Bee stepped into it, I noticed, that the
horses were too fat, and that, while old Uncle Amos might be a comfort,
he certainly was not stylish. I never had thought of these things
before.

In other words, Bee brought the city into too close juxtaposition for
the country to enjoy without a Mark-Tapley effort to come out strong
under trying circumstances.

Our place, Peach Orchard, was old, rambling, and picturesque. But it
was also comfortable. Both the Angel and I hate the idea of pioneering
or of doing without city comforts. So we had put bathrooms in here and
electric lights there, and, by adding city improvements to a country
estate, we had made of Peach Orchard a dear old place. It was a place,
too, over which some people raved, so I was loth to view it through my
critical sister's eyes for fear of permanent disenchantment.

But at first Bee was very polite. She affected an interest in the cows
and the number of hens sitting and how many more chickens we got than
the people whose estate adjoins. She spoke of the butter, which so
filled me with enthusiasm that I sent down to the dairy and had Mary
bring up Katie's last churning to show her. I was so interested in the
colour of the golden rolls in their cheese-cloth coverings that I did
not notice Bee's expression until afterward.

At five Bee asked for tea. There were some hurried whispered
instructions before we got it. But we pulled through that all right.

Then Bee said:

"Who is coming out to-night?"

"Coming out where?" I asked, genially.

"Why, to dine. Surely, you don't dine here alone, just you two, every
evening?"

I looked at Aubrey, and he looked at me.

"To be sure we do! Do you think we are already so bored by each other
that we send to New York for people to amuse us?" I cried, with some
spirit.

"Oh, not at all!" answered Bee, politely. "Only, I thought perhaps,
now that I am here, you would have some one from town for me to talk
to."

"Why, I'll talk to you and so will Aubrey--"

I stopped in confusion. Again it was something in Bee's expression,