"To Miss Briskett? Oh, how had you the courage? I should never have _dared_. What was it about?" "Teas!" replied Cornelia, shortly. "I've attended tea-parties regularly for the last ten days, and met the same people every single time, and now I've struck. I've had about enough teas to last the rest of my natural life, but Aunt Soph seemed to think I was bound to go wherever I was asked. Two more old ladies sent invitations to-day." "I know--at lunch-time. We got ours, too. You can't refuse, Cornelia, if you haven't another engagement." "Can't I just? You bet I can. Besides, what's to hinder having an engagement if I want to? Say! let's fix one up right here. I'd be delighted to have you come a drive with me to show me the country, Thursday afternoon at a quarter after four. We could hire something, I suppose, to drive in, and find a place to have tea on the way. We'd have a high old talk, and you'd enjoy it a heap more than the tea- party." "Oh, I know that, but I don't know if I ought,--Mrs Nevins' invitation came first." "Shucks!" cried Cornelia, "you've got too much conscience--that's what's the matter with you. You'll never have much of a time in this world if you don't take the pick of a choice. What's two hours, anyway? You go right home, and write nice and pretty to say you're real sorry you've got another engagement. Your mother can trot along with Aunt Soph. They'll enjoy themselves a heap better sitting round without us, talking over the perversities of the young. They were all tame angels when they were girls, and never did anything they ought not to have done. My!" She twisted her saucy nose, and rolled her eyes heavenwards. "I'm thankful I struck a livelier time! As for you, Elma Ramsden, you're going to be equal to any one of them, if nothing happens to shake you up. I guess it's my mission to do the shaking, so we'll start fair from now on. You're engaged to me Thursday afternoon. D'you understand? I guess we'd better go home and break the news before the answers are written." She rose to her feet, and Elma followed her example, shaking her skirts and fastening on the shady mushroom hat. No further protestations rose to her lips, so it might be taken for granted that silence gave consent, but half-way down the path she spoke again, in tentative, hesitating fashion. "I don't mind about Mrs Nevins. She is rich and strong, and enjoys her life; but Miss Nesbitt is different. She's an old maid, and poor. She belongs to a good family, so she is asked out with the rest, but she hardly ever gives a tea--not once in a year. It will be a great event to her; she'll be beginning to make preparations even now; baking cakes, and cleaning the silver, and taking off the covers of the drawing-room chairs. It is all in your honour. She'll be disappointed if you don't go."