Suddenly both straightened themselves and held their cards in readiness.

“How does my bonnet look?” whispered Mrs. Lee.

Mrs. Van Dorn paid no attention, for then the door was opened and Mrs. Morris’s maid appeared, with cap awry and her white apron over a blue-checked gingham which was plainly in evidence at the sides.

The ladies gave her their cards, and followed her into the best parlor, which was commonly designated in Banbridge as the reception-room.  The best parlor was furnished with a sort of luxurious severity.  There were a few pieces of staid old furniture of a much earlier period than the others, but they were rather in the background in the gloomy corners, and the new pieces were thrust firmly forward into greater evidence.

Mrs. Van Dorn sat down on the corner of a fine velvet divan, and Mrs. Lee near her on the edge of a gold chair.  Then they waited, while the maid retired with their cards.  “It’s a pretty room, isn’t it?” whispered Mrs. Lee, looking about.

“Beautiful.”

“She kept a few pieces of the old furniture that she had in her old house when this new one was built, didn’t she?”

“Yes.  I suppose she didn’t feel as if she could buy all new.”

The ladies studied all the furnishings of the room, keeping their faces in readiness to assume their calling expression at an instant’s notice when the hostess should appear.

“Did she have those vases on the mantel-shelf in the old house?” whispered Mrs. Lee, after a while; but Mrs. Van Dorn made a warning gesture, and instantly both ladies straightened themselves and looked pleasantly expectant, and Mrs. Morris appeared.

She was a short and florid woman, and her face was flushed a deep rose; beads of perspiration glistened on her forehead, her black hair clung to it in wet strands.  In her expression polite greeting and irritation and intense discomfort struggled for mastery.  She had been house-cleaning when the door-bell rang, and had hastened into her black skirt and black-and-white silk blouse.  The blouse was buttoned wrong, and it did not meet the skirt in the back; and she had quite overlooked her neckgear, but of that she was pleasantly unconscious, also of the fact that there was a large black smooch beside her nose, giving her both a rakish and a sinister air.

“I am so glad to find you in,” said Mrs. Van Dorn.

“I was telling Mrs. Van Dorn that I was so afraid you would be out, it is such a lovely day,” said Mrs. Lee.

“I am so glad I was in,” responded Mrs. Morris, with effusion.  “I should have been so disappointed to miss your call.”

Then the ladies seated themselves, and the conversation went on.  Overhead the maid could be heard heavily tramping.  The carpet of that room was up, and the mistress and maid had planned to replace it before night; but the mistress held fast to her effusive air of welcome.  It had never been fashionable or even allowable not to be at home when one was at home in Banbridge.  When Banbridge ladies went abroad calling, in the coach, much was exacted.  Mrs. Morris could never have held up her social head again had she fibbed, or bidden the maid fib—­that is, if it had been discovered.