e next you may be a millionairess travelling in
Europe. There's nothing to prevent, if it's in you, and naturally you
always hope it is.

The Trowbridges' neighbours are almost as nice as they are. After I had
been here two or three days I was feeding the chickens with Mr.
Trowbridge after "tea," when a man and woman came up the avenue. They
were countrified looking and rather awkward, I thought at first glance,
which was the only one I took, as I at once left Mr. Trowbridge to talk
with the newcomers and went away. It wasn't Ide's time yet to sit with
Albert, so I found an apple, and sat and rocked in the boat swing with
a book I'd left there earlier in the afternoon. Presently, however,
down ran Patty to ask if I would mind coming back to the house, as Mr.
and Mrs. Engelhorn had come especially to see me.

"To see me?" I repeated. "What for?"

"Oh, I suppose they thought it would be polite to call," said Patty.
"They're such nice people. They have the farm with the low house
opposite this. Mrs. Engelhorn was a city girl. Her father is the best
jeweller in Arcona, and her brother has the biggest steam cleaning
establishment there. She's been beautifully educated, and he's very
intelligent. I guess you'll like them."

"Oh, I'll come, of course," I said. "I didn't dream they wanted to see
me." But I would much rather have stopped where I was and read the
book. Of course it's only prejudice, and the way one has been brought
up which makes one feel as if it were odd to meet tradespeople, and
it's nonsense, too; for as soon as they get horribly rich nobody seems
to mind nowadays, which shows how little sense there is in the idea.
Still, I did want to laugh, though I was ashamed of myself; but a
picture of Mother being called on formally by a steam cleaner would
come up before me.

Mr. and Mrs. Engelhorn had put on their best clothes, and they were
dears. I was as agreeable as I knew how to be, and after I had been
with them a little while, I felt that it was they who were superior.
They talked about the most interesting and learned things, just as Mr.
Trowbridge does, and in the same simple, modest way. We went into the
parlour, where Mrs. Engelhorn played as well as a professional, and
sang exquisitely, in a cultivated contralto voice. I could have cried
to see how work-worn her hands looked, as they flew so cleverly over
the keys of Mrs. Trowbridge's splendid Steinway Grand piano, which is
much finer and in better c