and fretful voice screamed to her from an upper window:

"You are later than ever to-day, Elma, and mother has been fretting
herself into hysterics. Do come in at once and be quick about it."

Elma mounted the two or three steps which led to the hall door, and
pulled the bell with considerably more energy than was her wont. The
sovereigns were in her pocket; they made all the difference to her
between misery and happiness. She entered the house in high good-humor.

"What is it, Carrie?" she called to the fretful voice, which was now
approaching nearer.

The next moment a slatternly-looking girl appeared at the head of the
stairs.

"It's very easy for you to ask what is it," cried its owner, speaking in
high dudgeon. "You promised to be in between five and six, and it is now
between seven and eight. Here is all my chance of an evening's fun
knocked on the head. It's just like you, Elma; that it is."

"Oh, never mind now; please don't scold me," said Elma. "What is
it--about mother; has she been bad again?"

"Oh, it's the usual thing; she has had one of those dismal letters from
father. I can't imagine why she thinks anything about them. It came just
when we were all sitting down to dinner, and she began to cry in that
feeble sort of fashion."

"Oh, don't, Carrie; she will hear you," said Elma. "Pray go back to your