e amusement to the townsfolk with
their clothes and their antics."

"I know the Speirs type," said Pamela. "Foolish virgins."

"Next to Woodside is Craigton," went on Jean, "and there live three
spinsters--the very best brand of spinsters--the Duncans, Miss Mary,
Miss Janet, and Miss Phemie. I don't know what Priorsford would do
without these good women. Spinsters they are, but they are also real
mothers in Israel. They have time to help everyone. Benign Miss Mary is
the housekeeper--and such a housekeeper! Miss Janet is the public one,
sits on all the Committees. Miss Phemie does the flowers and embroiders
beautiful things and is like a tea-cosy, so soft and warm and
comfortable. Somehow they always seem to be there when you want them.
You never go to their door and get a dusty answer. There is the same
welcome for everyone, gentle and simple, and always the bright fire, and
the kind, smiling faces, and tea with thick cream and cake of the
richest and freshest.... You know how some people beg you to visit them,
and when you go they seem to wear a surprised look, and you feel
unexpected and awkward? The Duncans make you feel so pleased with
yourself. They are so unselfishly interested in other people's concerns;
and they are grand laughers. Even the dullest warm to something
approaching wit when surrounded by that appreciative audience of three.
They don't talk much themselves, but they have made of listening a fine
art."

"Jean," said Pamela, "do you actually mean to tell me that everybody in
Priorsford is nice? Or are you merely being charitable? I don't know
anything duller than your charitable person who always says the kind
thing."

Jean laughed. "I'm sorry, but I'm afraid the Priorsford people are all
more or less nice. At least, they seem so to me, but perhaps I'm not
very discriminating. You will tell me what you think of them when you
meet them. All these people I've been telling you about are rich people,
'in a large way,' as Priorsford calls it. They have all large motor-cars
and hothouses and rich things like that. Mrs. M'Cosh says Priorsford is
a 'real tone-y wee place,' and we do fancy ourselves a good deal. It's a
community largely made up of women and middle-aged retired men. You see,
there is nothing for the young men to do; we haven't even mills like so
many of the Tweedside towns."

"Will people call on me?" Pamela asked. "Is Priorsford sociable?"

Jean pursed up her mouth in an effort to look