ve consent,
but half-way down the path she spoke again, in tentative, hesitating
fashion.

"I don't mind about Mrs Nevins. She is rich and strong, and enjoys her
life; but Miss Nesbitt is different. She's an old maid, and poor. She
belongs to a good family, so she is asked out with the rest, but she
hardly ever gives a tea--not once in a year. It will be a great event
to her; she'll be beginning to make preparations even now; baking cakes,
and cleaning the silver, and taking off the covers of the drawing-room
chairs. It is all in your honour. She'll be disappointed if you don't
go."

Cornelia turned upon her with a flash of reproof. "Why couldn't you
tell me that before, I want to know? Pretty mean I should have felt,
backing out of a thing like that! I wouldn't disappoint the old dear
for a fortune. Is it the one with the flat hair, and the little
ringlets dangling at the sides? They are too 'cute for anything, those
ringlets. Yes! I guessed she was the one, for I noticed her clothes
looked all used up. Don't you worry! I'll take tea with Miss Nesbitt
as often as she wants, and behave so pretty you'll admire to see me.
That's an olive branch to carry in to Aunt Soph--eh? I reckon she'll be
pretty dusty."

"I reckon she will." Elma glanced with a half-fearful smile at her
companion's unruffled face. "I wouldn't be in your shoes for a hundred
pounds. Miss Briskett is formidable enough when she is pleased; but
when she is angry--! Cornelia, aren't you frightened?"

Cornelia's joyous peal of laughter floated away on the air, and caught
the ears of the industrious Morris, who was sweeping the path a hundred
yards away. He turned to lean on his brush and stare, while Elma
glanced nervously at the curtained windows.

"I never was scared in my life that I know of, and I'm not going to
begin with my very own aunt. I rather like a fizzle now and then--it
freshens one up. Don't you worry about me! I'm quite able to stand up
for myself."

She pushed open the gate of The Nook as she spoke and sauntered up the
path; laughing, bareheaded, radiantly unashamed. Miss Briskett beheld
her approach from her seat in the corner of the drawing-room, and two
spots of colour shone dully on her thin cheek bones. The hands which
held her knitting trembled with indignation, and her eyes welcomed the
culprit with a steely flash.

"Cornelia, are you aware that you are forbidden to trespass on the grass
of this par