The carriage drove up, and, as Bee stepped into it, I noticed, that the horses were too fat, and that, while old Uncle Amos might be a comfort, he certainly was not stylish. I never had thought of these things before. In other words, Bee brought the city into too close juxtaposition for the country to enjoy without a Mark-Tapley effort to come out strong under trying circumstances. Our place, Peach Orchard, was old, rambling, and picturesque. But it was also comfortable. Both the Angel and I hate the idea of pioneering or of doing without city comforts. So we had put bathrooms in here and electric lights there, and, by adding city improvements to a country estate, we had made of Peach Orchard a dear old place. It was a place, too, over which some people raved, so I was loth to view it through my critical sister's eyes for fear of permanent disenchantment. But at first Bee was very polite. She affected an interest in the cows and the number of hens sitting and how many more chickens we got than the people whose estate adjoins. She spoke of the butter, which so filled me with enthusiasm that I sent down to the dairy and had Mary bring up Katie's last churning to show her. I was so interested in the colour of the golden rolls in their cheese-cloth coverings that I did not notice Bee's expression until afterward. At five Bee asked for tea. There were some hurried whispered instructions before we got it. But we pulled through that all right. Then Bee said: "Who is coming out to-night?" "Coming out where?" I asked, genially. "Why, to dine. Surely, you don't dine here alone, just you two, every evening?" I looked at Aubrey, and he looked at me. "To be sure we do! Do you think we are already so bored by each other that we send to New York for people to amuse us?" I cried, with some spirit. "Oh, not at all!" answered Bee, politely. "Only, I thought perhaps, now that I am here, you would have some one from town for me to talk to." "Why, I'll talk to you and so will Aubrey--" I stopped in confusion. Again it was something in Bee's expression, I felt the same way when I called her attention to the length of the sorrels' tails. It reminded me that Bee preferred them docked. "It is your first night with us, so nobody will be here to-night," I said, rising to the emergency. "But to-morrow we'll have somebody. I'll ask the Jimmies!" "Or perhaps you could get Captain Featherstone from Fort Hamilton," suggested Bee. "That is not likely," I said. "He has so many engagements." "You might try him--by telephone," suggested Bee again. "Certainly, I'll ask him," I said, cordially. Aubrey pressed my handkerchief into my hand with a meaning twinkle in his eyes, and when Bee went in to dress, he said: "It will be rather nice to see old Featherstone again, don't you think?" "Yes, if we can get him," I answered.