"Pshaw now," she said to Daphne, "will I have to come again, now she
ain't at home?"

"No," said Daphne; "she'll find your cards and know you have called.
That's all you have to do."

"Well, that's one good thing"--and Drusilla was relieved to find
that the disagreeable duty was so quickly done. "If I'd a knowed
that, I'd a sent William to tell me when they was out and then I'd a
come."

"Oh, but you'll like your neighbors when you know them. Here--Mrs.
Crane is at home, I know"--and Drusilla spent a most miserable half
hour sitting on the edge of a hard chair, wishing Daphne would rise
as a signal to leave. Tea was served by a maid, and Drusilla held the
cup awkwardly, while she ate the little wafer and infinitesimal
sandwich which was passed with it.

"Why didn't they have a table?" she asked when they were outside. "I
was in mortal fear that I'd spill the tea on my new dress--and I
don't eat well with my gloves on."

Two more calls of the same kind were made and as they were turning
into another gate, Drusilla leaned forward and said to the chauffeur:
"Joseph, go straight ahead." Then, turning to Daphne, Drusilla said:
"We're goin' for a ride now; we ain't goin' to spoil this lovely day
with no more calls."

Drusilla would not listen to Daphne's remonstrances, and the motor