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The friends quickened their steps, and with shining eyes and beating hearts hastened forward. The slightest mists of uncertainty were now cleared away; they gazed at the house with deepest pleasure; the visit was about to begin.

They opened the front gate and went up the short walk, noticing the pretty herring-bone pattern of the bricks, and as they stood on the high steps Cynthia Pickett wondered whether she ought not to have worn her best dress, even though there was lace at the neck and sleeves, and she usually kept it for the most formal of tea-parties and exceptional parish festivals. In her heart she commended Mrs. Flagg for that familiarity with the ways of a wider social world which had led her to wear the very best among her black cashmeres.

“She’s a good while coming to the door,” whispered Mrs. Flagg presently. “Either she didn’t see us, or else she’s slipped upstairs to make some change, an’ is just goin’ to let us ring again. I’ve done it myself sometimes. I’m glad we come right over after her urgin’ us so; it seems more cordial than to keep her expectin’ us. I expect she’ll urge us terribly to remain with her over-night.”

“Oh, I ain’t prepared,” began Miss Pickett, but she looked pleased. At that moment there was a slow withdrawal of the bolt inside, and a key was turned, the front door opened, and Mrs. Timms stood before them with a smile. Nobody stopped to think at that moment what kind of smile it was.

“Why, if it ain’t Mis’ Flagg,” she exclaimed politely, “an’ Miss Pickett too! I am surprised!”

The front entry behind her looked well furnished, but not exactly hospitable; the stairs with their brass rods looked so clean and bright that it did not seem as if anybody had ever gone up or come down. A cat came purring out, but Mrs. Timms pushed her back with a determined foot, and hastily closed the sitting-room door. Then Miss Pickett let Mrs. Flagg precede her, as was becoming, and they went into a darkened parlor, and found their way to some chairs, and seated themselves solemnly.

“‘Tis a beautiful day, ain’t it?” said Mrs. Flagg, speaking first. “I don’t know’s I ever enjoyed the ride more. We’ve been having a good deal of rain since we saw you at the conference, and the country looks beautiful.”

“Did you leave Woodville this morning? I thought I hadn’t heard you was in town,” replied Mrs. Timms formally. She was seated just a little too far away to make things seem exactly pleasant. The darkness of the best room seemed to retreat somewhat, and Miss Pickett looked over by the door, where there was a pale gleam from the side-lights in the hall, to try to see the pattern of the carpet; but her effort failed.

“Yes, ‘m,” replied Mrs. Flagg to the question. “We left Woodville about half past eight, but it is quite a ways from where we live to where you take the stage. The stage does come slow, but you don’t seem to mind it such a beautiful day.”

“Why, you must have come right to see me first!” said Mrs. Timms, warming a little as the visit went on. “I hope you’re going to make some stop in town. I’m sure it was very polite of you to come right an’ see me; well, it’s very pleasant, I declare. I wish you’d been in Baxter last Sabbath; our minister did give us an elegant sermon on faith an’ works. He spoke of the conference, and gave his views on some o’ the questions that came up, at Friday evenin’ meetin’; but I felt tired after getting home, an’ so I wasn’t out. We feel very much favored to have such a man amon’st us. He’s building up the parish very considerable. I understand the pew-rents come to thirty-six dollars more this quarter than they did last.”