correct, Elizabeth Robinson--the brown-haired, "plump", girl--she who
was known as the "big" Robinson twin--the said Bess being rather out
of breath from her rapid exit from the parlor to the hall.

As might be surmised, it did not take much to put Bess out of breath,
or, to be still more exact, to put the breath out of Bess. It was
all due to her exceeding--plumpness--to use a "nice" word.

"Oh, Cora!" exclaimed Bess. "I've been waiting so long for you! I
thought you'd never come! I--I--"

"There, my dear, don't excite yourself. Accidents will happen in the
best of manicured families, and you simply must do something--take
more exercise--eat less--did you every try rolling over and over on
the, floor after each meal? One roll for each course, you know," and Cora
smiled tantalizingly as she removed her other glove, and proceeded to
complete the restoration of her hair to something approaching the modern
style--which task she had essayed while on the porch.

"Well, Cora Kimball, I like your--!"

"No slang, Bess dear. Remember those girls we met this summer, and
how we promised never, never to use it--at least as commonly as they
did! We never realized how it sounded until we heard them."

"Oh, Cora, do stop. I've such a lot to tell you!" and Bess laid a
plump and rosy palm over the smiling lips of her hostess.

"So I gathered, Bess, from your manner. But you must not be in such
a hurry. This is evidently going to be a mile run, and not a hundred