"Now I hope," she said, toward the end of her visit, "that you will give us the pleasure of spending to-morrow afternoon with us and staying to tea. I suppose 'tea' has gone out of fashion in the States, but it's just the height of the strawberry season now, and perhaps you'll accept high tea in place of a late dinner." "We shall be delighted to accept your invitation," Mrs. Redmond replied, "and as for tea, why, we never have late dinner at home in summer. We shall enjoy your hospitality." Now it happened, unfortunately, that on the morning of Wednesday, the day for which Mrs. Airton had invited them, Martine and Priscilla had their first falling out. Like most fallings out, it began in a very trivial way. Among Martine's belongings was an elaborate toilet set of silver-mounted brushes and boxes; she had had the good sense not to carry them in her travelling bag, but at Annapolis, where they were to stay longer than at some places, she had unpacked them all from her trunk, and they were spread out in elaborate array on her bureau. Amy had planned an excursion for the morning to Granville across the Granville Ferry to a certain picturesque spot on the other side. When she and Priscilla were ready to start, they knocked at Martine's door, thinking that she too would be ready. To their surprise, they found her in a loose dressing-sack, busily engaged in polishing her silver. "There, I forgot all about going with you," cried Martine; "the damp air has blackened my brushes so that I just thought the best thing was to sit down and polish them." "Oh, dear," rejoined Priscilla, "we are late as it is; for if we miss this ferry-boat, we'll have to wait so long for another that we won't have any time on the other side." "I can't help it," retorted Martine; "you can go without me if you like, though I'll drop what I'm doing and hurry to get dressed; but if you do not want to wait, it's all the same to me." "Of course we'll wait," said Amy, gently. "I particularly wish you to be with us, Martine, and though it will shorten our time a little, we must make the best of it now." Priscilla looked at her watch. "We ought to take this next ferry-boat, and if we wait for Martine we shall lose it. Cleaning silver seems such a waste of time when we're travelling." Priscilla's manner rather than her actual words irritated Martine. "I am the best judge of what wastes my own time," she said with unwonted sharpness, "and as a matter of fact, I'd rather stay here than go with you." Amy, looking at her earnestly, realized that this was not the time for further argument. "Very well," she rejoined. "Priscilla, let us go on. Martine is certainly the best judge of what she ought to do." "I know I shouldn't have criticised Martine," apologized Priscilla, as they walked along; "but it seems so silly to me that she should carry a valuable set of silver like that on a trip of this kind. I spoke before I thought."