"Yes?" she said, and listened for the possible voice of yesterday; but a woman's tones put the question:—
"Is this Mrs. Ballard's apartment?"
"Yes," replied Eliza briefly.
"Is this Eliza Brewster?" again asked the sweet voice.
"It is," came the non-committal admission.
"May I come up, Eliza? It's Mrs. Wright."
"Mrs. who?"
"Mrs. Wright. Don't you remember my spending the day with Mrs. Ballard last spring, just before I went to Brewster's Island?"
"Oh, Mrs. Wright!" exclaimed Eliza in a different tone. "Excuse me for keepin' you waitin'. Come right up."
Well Eliza recalled the enjoyment of her dear one in that visit of an old friend, rarely seen. Mrs. Ballard's social pleasures were so few, this day gleamed as a bright spot in memory; and, not content with opening wide the door, Eliza went out to the head of the stairs to receive the mounting figure.