“I know it.  I won’t again,” Lily said, humbly.

The two girls walked on; they had crossed the bridge.  Suddenly Lily plucked up a little spirit.

“Say, Maria,” said she.

“What is it, dear?”

“I just happened to think.  Mother was asked to tea to Mrs. Ralph Wright’s to-night, but she isn’t going.  Is your aunt going?”

“Yes, I believe she is,” said Maria.

“She won’t be home before eight o’clock, will she?”

“No, I don’t suppose she will.  They are to have tea at six, I believe.”

“Then I am coming over after mother and I have tea.  I have something I want to tell you.”

“All right, dear,” replied Maria, hesitatingly.

When Maria got home she found her aunt Maria all dressed, except for her collar-fastening.  She was waiting for Maria to attend to that.  Her thin gray-blond hair was beautifully crimped, and she wore her best black silk dress.  She was standing by the sitting-room window when Maria entered.

“I am glad you have come, Maria,” said she.  “I have been standing quite awhile.  You are late.”

“Yes, I am rather late,” replied Maria.  “But why on earth didn’t you sit down?”

“Do you suppose I am going to sit down more than I can help in this dress?” said her aunt.  “There is nothing hurts a silk dress more than sitting down in it.  Now if you will hook my collar, Maria.  I can do it, but I don’t like to strain the seams by reaching round, and I didn’t want to trail this dress down the cellar stairs to get Eunice to fasten it up.”  Aunt Maria bewailed the weather in a deprecating fashion while Maria was fastening the collar at the back of her skinny neck.  “I never want to find fault with the weather,” said she, “because, of course, the weather is regulated by Something higher than we are, and it must be for our best good, but I do hate to wear this dress out in such a storm, and I don’t dare wear my cashmere.  Mrs. Ralph Wright is so particular she would be sure to think I didn’t pay her proper respect.”

“You can wear my water-proof,” said Maria.  “I didn’t wear it to-day, you know.  I didn’t think the snow would do this dress any harm.  The water-proof will cover you all up.”

“Well, I suppose I can, and can pin my skirt up,” said Aunt Maria, in a resigned tone.  “I don’t want to find fault with the weather, but I do hate to pin up a black silk skirt.”

“You can turn it right up around your waist, and fasten the braid to your belt, and then it won’t hurt it,” said Maria, consolingly.

“Well, I suppose I can.  Your supper is all ready, Maria.  There’s bread and butter, and chocolate cake, and some oysters.  I thought you wouldn’t mind making yourself a little stew.  I couldn’t make it before you came, because it wouldn’t be fit to eat.  You know how.  Be sure the milk is hot before you put the oysters in.  There is a good fire.”