The next morning Lucy was dusting the dining room furniture. Mrs. Merwent had just finished her usual tardy breakfast. “Who was that woman with her hat stuck on the back of her head who came so early yesterday?” she asked, pushing her chair away from the table. Lucy frowned slightly. “I suppose you mean Mrs. Hamilton. I never noticed how she wore her hat but she was the one who came earliest. I told you she was our neighbor when I introduced you. I like her the best of all those who were here,” Lucy returned with antagonistic emphasis. “Well, I could never like a woman who wore her hat like that,” Nannie asserted. “Now that Miss Powell was the smartest one present at your tea. The way she put her hat on had real dash to it. She studies herself and dresses to bring out her points to the best advantage. I think that it’s a woman’s duty to look as well as she can.” “I never cared for Miss Powell,” said Lucy stubbornly. “She always seemed so selfish to me.” “Well, I thought she was nice,” persisted Nannie injuredly. “Her brother is William J. Powell of Powell and Powell. John knows the firm. She’s going to call on me soon and before the season’s over we’re going to a matinée together. I tell you, Lucy, you’re making a mistake, living by yourself. You owe it to John to make friends. A woman can advance her husband in lots of ways if she’s clever about it.” Lucy opened her lips to speak but restrained the impulse before she had put her reply into words. “Now one thing we could do to extend your acquaintance would be to have nice teas on Sundays,” Nannie resumed. “Then you could have friends in, and in time keep sort of open house Sunday evenings.” “We can’t afford extra things, Mamma. Our means won’t allow it.” “But, Lucy, it wouldn’t cost hardly anything. You are so clever about making things. Why your biscuits and fricasseed chicken the other day were the best things I ever tasted. Let’s try it next Sunday.” “But whom shall we invite, Mamma?” “Let’s invite your friend, Mr. Sprague,” suggested Nannie smiling. “He’s not my friend any more than he is John’s, and not as much,” said Lucy coldly. “Why, Lucy, who said he was! I meant yours and John’s both. I only wanted to please you. I declare, we can’t mention Mr. Sprague’s name without your getting offended.” Lucy changed the subject and did not refer to it again, but Nannie brought up her suggestion when John came home, and he seconded the plan heartily. “Yes. Let’s have Jim out Sunday!” he cried. “He’s moping around these days like he’d lost his grandmother. It’ll do him good.” “All right,” suddenly agreed Lucy. “We will.” Nannie seemed surprised at her ready acquiescence. XV Jim appeared punctually at the appointed hour on Sunday evening. It had been a brilliant spring day. The late sunshine was now mellowed by shadows that fell thick on the front of the Winter house and made it look cool and inviting. As he came up the walk he saw Mrs. Merwent on the front porch.