She greeted Floy with an angry nod and the question: “What’s the reason Mrs. Sharp sends you instead of coming herself? You can tell her I don’t like such treatment, and I consider that my money is as good as any other body’s. She says in her note you can fit as well as she can; but I don’t believe it; it stands to reason that a ’prentice-girl couldn’t do as well as her mistress.” Floy’s cheek flushed, but she stood with an air of dignity, silently waiting for the end of the tirade, then quietly asked: “Am I to fit your dress, Mrs. Lea?” “Can you? that’s the question.” “You have Mrs. Sharp’s opinion in regard to my ability. I can only say that I am ready to do my best, or to return to her with your message, as you please.” “Well, I guess you may cut and fit the lining, and I can judge by the looks of it whether to allow you to go on and do up the job. Eliza,” turning to her maid, “bring the things. You know where they are.” Floy had not been invited to sit down, but feeling ill able to stand, quietly took possession of the nearest chair. Mrs. Lea elevated her eyebrows and muttered something angrily about “impudence and upstarts, and some folks making themselves very much at home in other folks’ houses.” Floy seemed not to hear, but kept her seat till the maid returned with the required articles, and Mrs. Lea was ready to stand up and be fitted. This proved a tedious and trying process to both, by reason of Mrs. Lea’s impatience and captiousness; but at length Floy’s efforts resulted in so signal a success that she was graciously permitted, in Mrs. Lea’s phrase, “to go on and do up the job.” “Why, it fits elegant!” she exclaimed at the final trying on. “I declare Mrs. Sharp couldn’t a done it better herself, and you may tell her I said as much.” Floy was gratified, for the Leas were among Mrs. Sharp’s best customers. Her patience and forbearance had been sorely tried, but had not failed, and now she was rewarded for the restraint put upon herself. Her pulses quickened as she passed the library door in going out, though she knew Espy was not there now, for she had heard the departure of the sleighing party, and they had not returned. Another hour had slipped away before they came, and Espy was met at the door by a telegram to the effect that his mother was lying dangerously ill, and he must hasten home without delay if he would see her alive. Espy read it at a glance; and turning a pale, agitated countenance upon the servant, who stood waiting, “I must be gone at once,” he said. “Yes, sir; I expected as much, and I’ve packed your valise, sir; here it is all right--everything in it that you’d left in your room.” “Thank you; it was very thoughtful and kind. I will have to leave my adieus to the ladies and gentlemen with you. Tell them I have been suddenly summoned home. My mother is very ill, and I shall have barely time to catch the train. Good-by.”