"Well now, maybe that wasn't malice," thought Miss Billy hotly. "But I promised Beatrice, so I'll go right on making myself amiable." "Yes?" she said aloud coolly. "Mrs. Canary has told me a great deal about the Caseys, but of course I never thought of connecting them with your John Casey. Indeed we've been so busy getting settled--that sounds like coffee grounds, doesn't it?--and we've had so many of our friends dropping in on us daily, that we haven't had time to think at all." "Have you heard," lisped Miss Blanche, "that the Van Courtlands are intending to join their daughter in Cologne, next month? We did so wish we might sail with them, but Mr. Van Courtland thought we had better not defer our plans, as his time was so uncertain. Have they called lately?" "Well, I can't truthfully say they called, for Mrs. Van Courtland brought a gingham apron with her when she came and helped mother arrange the silver and china, and Mr. Van Courtland spaded half my flower-beds for me. He used to be a farmer, you know, before he was a banker." The young ladies of fashion exchanged glances of surprise. When Miss Maude spoke again there was trace of warmth in her manner. "You are quite cosily situated here; are you at all lonesome for the old home in Ashurst Place?" "Well," said Miss Billy frankly, "I miss the bath-tub most awfully," and the next moment could have bitten out her tongue. "That's the first glaring indiscretion," she thought despairingly, "and there'll be more if Beatrice doesn't hurry with that frappé." Miss Blanche smiled encouragingly. "Do you know," she confided, "father thinks it was a great mistake, your moving here. He says he thinks your father's position as rector of St. John's demanded an entirely different course. Father says there are at least a dozen men in the church that would have tided your affairs over. But ministers are seldom good business men, and I suppose your father is no exception to the rule. How does your dear mother bear up under it?" "Under what?" asked Miss Billy. "You mean moving to Cherry Street? Oh, mother is brave. She's like the young lady of Norway: "Who casually sat in a doorway: When the door squeezed her flat She exclaimed 'What of that?' This courageous young lady of Norway. "Beside, Miss Blanche, you are labouring under a delusion. I assure you we enjoy our new home in Cherry Street." "Oh, it's very pleasant," conceded Miss Blanche hastily. "By the way, what has become of that lovely little _étagère_ of yours? I missed it the moment I stepped into the room." Miss Billy threw patience and prudence to the winds. "It's stored in a storing-room," she declared. "The last time I saw it, there was a bird-cage and a foot-stool on top of it. We had to pack a good deal of our furniture. We haven't fourteen rooms now, you understand."