This meal furnished and eaten, and the dishes washed and put away, I found myself not only completely tired out, but suffering from a most dreadful headache.

I was lying down, about four o'clock, in a half-waking and sleeping state, with my head a little easier, when my husband, who was sitting by the window, exclaimed: "If there isn't Mr.and Mrs.Peters and their three children, getting out of the stage!" "Not coming here!" said I, starting up in bed, while, at the same moment, my headache returned with a throbbing intensity that almost blinded me.
"Yes, coming here," replied Mr.Smith.
"How unfortunate!" came from my lips, as I clasped my hands to my temples.
Now, Mr.and Mrs.Peters were people for whom we had no particular friendship.

We visited each other scarcely once a year, and had never reciprocated an evening to tea.

True, I had, on the occasion of meeting Mrs.Peters, about a week before, while stopping in the city, said to her, while praising my new country home: "You must come and see me sometime during the summer." The invitation was intended as a compliment more than anything else.
I didn't particularly care about a visit from her; and certainly had no idea that she would take me at my word.

So much for insincerity.
"Go down and ask them into the parlor," said I to Mr.Smith.