town to the other, as Hen and Chas.
The Cooneys, who were young people of about her own age, greeted
Carlisle with their customary simple gaiety. Both exclaimed over her
striking attire, Charles adding to his sister:
"Let Uncle Dudley stand next to Cally there, Hen--I'm better-looking
than you, anyway."
"I'd like to see a vote on that first. Recognize _mine_, Cally?" cried
Hen--"the brown you gave me last fall? First appearance since I steamed
and turned it. It'll stand a dye next year, too. But we haven't seen you
for a long time, my dear. Did you know Aunt Rose Hopwood's staying
with us now?"
"Oh, is she? I hadn't heard, Hen. How is she?"
"She's bad off," said Chas, cheerfully. "Deaf, lame, and cruel poverty's
hit her right at her old home address. I guess she'll come live with us
later on. Come walk out to King's Bridge for an appetite."
Carlisle, with an impatient foot on the Byrds' bottom step, glanced from
Chas to Hen, smiling a little. Her cousins were well-meaning young
people, and she liked them in a way, but she often found their breezy
assurance somewhat amusing.
"Thank you, Chas," said she, "but I've an engagement with mamma. I'm to
pick her up here now. I hope Aunt Molly's well?"
"Fine," said Hen. "Come and see us, Cally. Why don't you come to supper
to-morrow night?"
The lovely cousin obviously hesitated.
"Aw, Cally doesn't want to come yell in Aunt Rose Hopwood's trumpet,
Hen--"
"Aunt Rose Hopwood's going home to-morrow."
"First I've heard of it. Frankly I doubt your word."
For that Hen idly smote Chas's shins with her silver-handled umbrella
(Carlisle's gift three Christmases before), at which Chas cried _ouch_
in such a manner as to attract the attention of bystanders. Henrietta
liked this umbrella very much and commonly carried it, like a cane,
through all droughts.
"But," said she, reconsidering, "I think Hortense'll be off to-morrow,
that's so. Well, come the first soon night you feel like it--"
Carlisle had been doing some considering also, her conscience pricking
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