h overhead in the elms, Miss Pickett decided that she had
made a wise choice of her second-best black silk gown, which she had
just turned again and freshened. It was neither too warm for the
season nor too cool, nor did it look overdressed. She wore her large
cameo pin, and this, with a long watch-chain, gave an air of proper
mural decoration. She was a straight, flat little person, as if, when
not in use, she kept herself, silk dress and all, between the leaves
of a book. She carried a noticeable parasol with a fringe, and a small
shawl, with a pretty border, neatly folded over her left arm.
Mrs. Flagg always dressed in black cashmere, and looked, to hasty
observers, much the same one day as another; but her companion
recognized the fact that this was the best black cashmere of all, and
for a moment quailed at the thought that Mrs. Flagg was paying such
extreme deference to their prospective hostess. The visit turned for a
moment into an unexpectedly solemn formality, and pleasure seemed to
wane before Cynthia Pickett's eyes, yet with great courage she never
slackened a single step. Mrs. Flagg carried a somewhat worn black
leather hand-bag, which Miss Pickett regretted; it did not give the
visit that casual and unpremeditated air which she felt to be more
elegant.

"Sha'n't I carry your bag for you?" she asked timidly. Mrs. Flagg was
the older and more important person.

"Oh, dear me, no," answered Mrs. Flagg. "My pocket's so remote, in
case I should desire to sneeze or anything, that I thought 't would be
convenient for carrying my handkerchief and pocket-book; an' then I
just tucked in a couple o' glasses o' my crab-apple jelly for Mis'
Timms. She used to be a great hand for preserves of every sort, an' I
thought 't would be a kind of an attention, an' give rise to
conversation. I know she used to make excellent drop-cakes when we was
both residin' to Longport; folks used to say she never would give the
right receipt, but if I get a real good chance, I mean to ask her. Or
why can't you, if I start talkin' about receipts--why can't you say,
sort of innocent, that I have always spoken frequently of her
drop-cakes, an' ask for the rule? She would be very sensible to the
compliment, and could pass it off if she didn't feel to indulge us.
There, I do so wish you would!"

"Yes, 'm," said Miss Pickett doubtfully; "I'll try to make the
opportunity. I'm very partial to drop-cakes. Was they flour or rye,
Mis' Flagg?"

"