“Herman,” she said, sitting down by her brother’s easel, “I’ve got myself into a scrape, and I want you to help me out. Not that I need help, if Carter wasn’t so uppish about such things; but he was determined that I should give up the old set for good and all, when I came in here—and so I did. The day I went to see that Miss Laurence, who should come in but my old neighbor, Mrs. Smith, just as good, whole-hearted a woman as ever lived. Of course, I was glad to see her—my heart not being a nether millstone, nor yet a junk of ice. Then she was natural as life, thinking, no doubt, that I should keep her at arms-length, because of all this silk and lace, and bracelets, and she only in a calico-dress. I hadn’t the heart to do it, Herman; old neighbors are old neighbors; and, between you and me, brother, I’m not certain that them old times were so much worse than these. At an rate, my heart warmed to Mrs. Smith, and that child of hers, so that I hated to come home.” Here Mrs. Carter walked to the window, passed a hand over her eyes once or twice and came back again. “Mrs. Smith has got a splendid baby, you know; and holding it in my arms was such a heart-aching treat, after all that we have lost, Carter and I. It’s a thing we never mention between us; but the sight of a fine, wholesome baby is sure to make my breath come quick. After losing three of them, and none left, and this house built with a nursery, it’s heart-rending to think of; and I couldn’t help thinking that Mrs. Smith was richer than I was, after all. “Well, we took dinner together—ham and eggs—real old times; and cooked so nice. So, while the old home-feeling took full hold of me, I up and gave my old friend a card for my party, having one in my pocket at the time. This was the reason of my doing it, unthinkingly, as one may say, and long in advance of other people. She was so pleased—tickled almost to death; and is going to buy a new mory-antique, and—what will please you, I know—says that she will bring Miss Eva Laurance with her—carriage-hire being all the same for three as for two.” Here Ross made an impatient movement, which his sister saw, and half resented. “Now don’t you turn against me, Herman. It’s bad enough to have Carter curling up his nose at old friends, that were always ready to help him, when he needed help; but my own brother——” “You misunderstand,” said Ross. “I find no fault with feelings that do you honor.—Far from it. But as for Miss Laurence, we had arranged about her coming, and there need be no alteration in that, I should think.” “But Carter objects even to her. And as for Battle, his sneers about going into that neighborhood are beyond bearing.”