hey call him. And so, cousin or no cousin, I don't see how I'm goin' to
bring myself to let the Twombley-Cranes know. Anyway, I want to sleep on
it first. That's why I'd just as soon you wouldn't tell 'em we're here."

"I see," says I. "And you can bank on me."

I didn't peep a word, either. It's only the followin' evenin', though,
that Sadie announces:

"What do you think, Shorty? A Vermont cousin of Mr. Twombley-Crane is in
town, with his wife, and they're going to give them a dinner party
Friday night."

"Gee!" says I. "I'd like to be there."

"You will be," says she; "for you are specially invited."

"Eh?" says I. "To meet the poor relations? How's that?"

"Who said they were poor?" says Sadie. "Why, Twombley-Crane says that
his cousin's wife is one of the shrewdest business women he's ever heard
of. He has been handling her investments, and says she must be worth
half a million, at least; all made out of a country store, maple sugar
bushes, and farm mortgages. I'm crazy to see her, aren't you?"

"What--Sallie?" says I. "Half a million! Must be some mistake."

Course I had to tell her then about the couple I'd run across, and about
Mr. Sallie, and the pies, and the string bonnet. We had such a warm
debate too, as to whether she was really well off or not, that next day
my curiosity got the best of me, and I calls up the hotel to see if the
Leavitts are in. Well, they was, and Mrs. Leavitt, when she finds who it
is, asks pleadin' if I won't run up and see 'em a little while.

"Please come," says she; "for I'm completely flabbergasted. It's--it's
about Mr. Leavitt."

"Why, sure," says I. "I'll come right up."

I finds 'em sittin' in their dull, bare little hotel room, one on each
side of the bed, with the extension grip half packed on the floor.
"Well," says I, "what's up?"

"Ask him," says she, noddin' at Mr. Sallie.

But Leavitt only hangs his head guilty and shuffles his feet. "Then I'll
tell you," says she. "Yesterday he slipped out, hunted up his cousin,
and got us invited to dinner. More'n that, he said we'd come."

"Well, why not go?" says I.

"Because," says she, "I--I just can't do it. I--I'm--well, we've been
around some since we got here, lookin' into the big stores and so on,
and I've been noticin' the women, how they talk and act and dress
and--and--oh, I'm afraid, that's all!"

"Why, Sallie!" says Mr. Leavitt.

"Yes, I am," she insists. "I'm plumb scared at the thought of mixin'
wit