home. He should see! And forthwith Billy
picked up her skirts and tripped up-stairs to select
her very prettiest house-gown to do honor to the
occasion. Up-stairs, however, one thing and another
delayed her, so that it was four o'clock when
she turned her attention to her toilet; and it was
while she was hesitating whether to be stately
and impressive in royally sumptuous blue velvet
and ermine, or cozy and tantalizingly homy{sic} in
bronze-gold crpe de Chine and swan's-down,
that the telephone bell rang again.

Eliza and Pete had not yet returned; so, as
before, Billy answered it. This time Eliza's
shaking voice came to her.

``Is that you, ma'am?''

``Why, yes, Eliza?''

``Yes'm, it's me, ma'am. It's about Uncle
Pete. He's give us a turn that's 'most scared us
out of our wits.''

``Pete! You mean he's sick?''

``Yes, ma'am, he was. That is, he is, too--
only he's better, now, thank goodness,'' panted
Eliza. ``But he ain't hisself yet. He's that white
and shaky! Would you--could you--that is,