"When we've got any dead belongin' to us," she said, "we always carry all the flowers we get to the grave--an', of course, we don't feel we _can_ carry them that's been used for a company. It's the same with Mis' Fire Chief. An' she can't bear even to see flowers an' things that's fixed for a company, either. Of course, that's her privilege." Mis' Sykes took my hands. "You come here so lately," she said, "you naturally wouldn't know what's what in these things, here in Friendship. An' then, of course, Mis' Fire Chief Merriman is very, _very_ delicate." Calliope linked her arm in mine. "Don't you mind," she whispered; "we're all liable to our mistakes." * * * * * Half an hour after tea my guests took leave. "I enjoyed myself so much," said Mis' Holcomb-that-was-Mame-Bliss; "you look tired out. I hope it ain't been too much for you." "Entertainin' is a real job," said Mis' Sturgis, "but you do it almost as if you liked it. I enjoyed myself _so_ much." "I'll give bail you're glad it's over," said Libbie Liberty, sympathetically, "even if it did go off nice. I enjoyed myself ever so much." "_Ever_ so much," murmured Miss Lucy, laughing heartily. "Good night. Everything was lovely. I enjoyed myself very much," Mis' Postmaster Sykes told me. "And," she said, "you'll hear from me very, _very_ soon in return for this." "Now don't you overdo, reddin' up to-night," advised my dear Mis' Amanda Toplady. "Just pick up the silver an' rense it off, an' let the dishes set till mornin', _I_ say. I _did_ enjoy myself so much." "Good-by," Calliope whispered in the hall. "Oh, it was beautiful. I _never_ felt so special. Thank you--thank you. An'--you won't mind those things we said at the supper table?" "Oh, Calliope," I murmured miserably, "I've forgotten all about them." I went out to the veranda with her. At the foot of the steps the others had paused in consultation. Hesitating, they looked up at me, and Mis' Sykes became their spokesman. "If I was you," she said gently, "I wouldn't feel too cut up over that slip o' yours to Mis' Merriman. She'd ought not to see blunders where they wasn't any meant. It'd ought to be the heart that counts, _I_ say. Good-by. We enjoyed ourselves very, _very_ much!" They went down the path between blossoming bushes, in the late afternoon sun. And as Calliope followed,-- "That's so about the heart, ain't it?" she said brightly. XVI WHAT IS THAT IN THINE HAND? "Busy, busy, busy, busy all the day. Busy, busy, busy. And busy ..." "There goes Ellen Ember, crazy again," we said, when we heard that cry of hers, not unmelodious nor loud, echoing along Friendship streets. Then we usually ran to the windows and peered at her. Sometimes her long hair would be unbound on her shoulders, sometimes her little figure would be leaping lightly up as she caught at the lowest boughs of the curb elms, and sometimes her hand would be moving swiftly back and forth above her heart.