lling-bottle, and
a card, yellow indeed, but still a veritable engraved card, with these
words upon it:

"MISS ELISABETHA DAARG,

DAARG'S BAY."

The survey was satisfactory. "Certainly I look the gentlewoman," she
thought, with calm pride, "and this person, whoever she is, can not fail
to at once recognize me as such. It has never been our custom to visit
indiscriminately; but in this case I do it for the boy's sake." So she
sallied forth, going out by a side-door to escape observation, and
walked toward the town, revolving in her mind the words she should use
when face to face with the person. "I shall request her--with courtesy,
of course--still I shall feel obliged to request her to leave the
neighborhood," she thought. "I shall express to her--with kindness, but
also with dignity--my opinion of the meretricious music she has taught
my boy, and I shall say to her frankly that I really can not permit her
to see him again. Coming from me, these words will, of course, have
weight, and--"

"Oh, see Miss 'Lisabeet!" sang out a child's voice. "Nita, do but come
and see how fine she is!"

Nita came, saw, and followed, as did other children--girls carrying
plump babies, olive-skinned boys keeping close together, little blacks
of all ages, with go-carts made of turtle-shells. It was not so much the
splendor--though that was great, too--as it was the fact that Miss
Elisabetha wore it. Had they not all known her two cotton gowns as far
back as they could remember? Reaching the Martera house at last, her
accustomed glide somewhat quickened by the presence of her escort (for,
although she had often scolded them over her own gate, it was different
now when they assumed the proportions of a body-guard), she gave her
card to little Inez, a daughter of the household, and one of her pupils.

"Bear this card to the person you have staying with you, my child, and
ask her if she will receive me."

"But there is more than one person, senora," replied Inez, lost in
wonder over the brocade.

"The one who sings, then."

"They all sing, Miss 'Lisabeet."

"Well, then, I mean the person who--who wears purple velvet and--and
embroideries," said the visitor, bringing out these items reluctantly.

"Ah! you mean the beautiful lady," cried Inez. "I run, I run, senora";
and in a few minutes Miss Elisabetha was ushered up the stairs, and
found herself face to face with "the person."

"To whom have I the honor of speaking?"