“She always wore a friendly look,” said Mrs. Flagg indulgently. “There, now, there’s Mis’ Timms’s residence; it’s handsome, ain’t it, with them big spruce-trees? I expect she may be at the window now, an’ see us as we come along. Is my bonnet on straight, an’ everything? The blinds looks open in the room this way; I guess she’s to home fast enough.” The friends quickened their steps, and with shining eyes and beating hearts hastened forward. The slightest mists of uncertainty were now cleared away; they gazed at the house with deepest pleasure; the visit was about to begin. They opened the front gate and went up the short walk, noticing the pretty herringbone pattern of the bricks, and as they stood on the high steps Cynthia Pickett wondered whether she ought not to have worn her best dress, even though there was lace at the neck and sleeves, and she usually kept it for the most formal of tea-parties and exceptional parish festivals. In her heart she commended Mrs. Flagg for that familiarity with the ways of a wider social world which had led her to wear the very best among her black cashmeres. “She’s a good while coming to the door,” whispered Mrs. Flagg presently. “Either she didn’t see us, or else she’s slipped upstairs to make some change, an’ is just goin’ to let us ring again. I’ve done it myself sometimes. I’m glad we come right over after her urgin’ us so; it seems more cordial than to keep her expectin’ us. I expect she’ll urge us terribly to remain with her over night.” “Oh, I ain’t prepared,” began Miss Pickett, but she looked pleased. At that moment there was a slow withdrawal of the bolt inside, and a key was turned, the front door opened, and Mrs. Timms stood before them with a smile. Nobody stopped to think at that moment what kind of smile it was. “Why, if it ain’t Mis’ Flagg,” she exclaimed politely, “an’ Miss Pickett too! I am surprised!” The front entry behind her looked well furnished, but not exactly hospitable; the stairs with their brass rods looked so clean and bright that it did not seem as if anybody had ever gone up or come down. A cat came purring out, but Mrs. Timms pushed her back with a determined foot, and hastily closed the sitting-room door. Then Miss Pickett let Mrs. Flagg precede her, as was becoming, and they went into a darkened parlor, and found their way to some chairs, and seated themselves solemnly. “’Tis a beautiful day, ain’t it?” said Mrs. Flagg, speaking first. “I don’t know ’s I ever enjoyed the ride more. We’ve been having a good deal of rain since we saw you at the conference, and the country looks beautiful.”