r,"
she announced finally. "Mebbe they don't use this one."

Lois followed her mother around to the other side of the house to the
door opening on the south piazza. Mrs. Field rang again, and they
waited: then she gave a harder pull. A voice sounded unexpectedly
close to them from behind the blinds of a window:

"You jest walk right in," said the voice, which was at once flurried
and ceremonious. "Open the door an' go right in, an' turn to the
right, an' set down in the parlor. I'll be in in jest a minute. I
ain't quite dressed."

Lois and her mother went in as they were directed, and sat down in
two of the parlor chairs. The room looked very grand to Mrs. Field.
She stared at the red velvet furniture, the tapestry carpet, and the
long lace curtains, and thought, with a hardening heart, how, at all
events, she was not defrauding this other woman of a fine parlor. It
was to her mind much more splendid than the sitting-room in the other
house, with its dim old-fashioned state, and even than the great
north parlor, whose furniture and paper had been imported from
England at great cost nearly a hundred years ago.

Mrs. Maxwell did not appear for a half-hour. Now and then they heard
a scurry of feet, the rattle of dishes, and the closing of a door.
They sat primly waiting. They had not removed their wraps. Lois
looked very pale against the red back of her chair.

"Don't you feel well?" asked her mother.

"Yes, I feel well enough," replied Lois.

"You look sick enough," said her mother harshly.

Lois looked out of the window at the marble girl in the yard, and her
mouth quivered.

Presently Mrs. Maxwell came, in her soft flurry of silk and old
ribbons. She had on a black lace head-dress trimmed with purple
flowers, and she wore her black kid gloves.

"I'm real sorry I had to keep you waitin' so long, Esther," said she;
"but we were kinder late about dinner. Do take off your things. Flora
she'll be down in a few minutes; she's jest gone upstairs to change
her dress an' comb her hair. It's a beautiful day, ain't it?"

The three settled themselves in the parlor. Lois sat beside the
window, her hands folded meekly in her lap; her mother and Mrs.
Maxwell knitted.

"Don't you do any fancy-work, Lois?" asked Mrs. Maxwell.

"No, she don't do much," replied her mother for her.

"Don't she? I'd like to know! Now Flora, she does considerable. She's
makin' a real handsome tidy now. She'll show you how, Lois, if you'd
l