It was not very long after noonday that, with a stifled remark of disapprobation upon her lips, she drew up at the foot of the broad flight of steps by which one crossed the fence into the Midbranch yard.  Giving Billy into the charge of Plez, with directions to take him round to the stables and tell somebody to put him up and feed him, she mounted the steps, and stopped for a minute or so on the broad platform at the top; looking about her as she stood.  Everything, the house, the yard, the row of elms along the fence, the wide-spreading fields, and the farm buildings and cabins, some of which she could see around the end of the house, were all on a scale so much larger and more imposing than those of her own little estate that, although nothing had changed for the better since the days when she was familiar with Midbranch, she was struck with the general superiority of the Brandon possessions to her own.  Her eyes twinkled, and she smiled; but there did not appear to be anything envious about her.

She presented a rather remarkable figure as she stood in this conspicuous position.  Annie had insisted, when she was helping her aunt to array herself for the journey, that she should wear a bonnet which for many years had been her head-gear on Sundays and important occasions, but to this the old lady positively objected.  She was not going on a mere visit of state or ceremony; her visit at Midbranch would require her whole attention, and she did not wish to distract her mind by wondering whether her bonnet was straight on her head or not, and she was so unaccustomed to the feel of it that she would never know if it got turned hind part foremost.  She could never be at her ease, nor say freely what she wished to say, if she were dressed in clothes to which she was not accustomed.  She was perfectly accustomed to her sun-bonnet, and she intended to wear that.  Of course she carried her purple umbrella, and she wore a plain calico dress, blue spotted with white, which was very narrow and short in the skirt, barely touching the tops of her shoes, the stoutest and most serviceable that could be procured in the store at Howlett’s.  She covered her shoulders with a small red shawl which, much to Annie’s surprise, she fastened with a large and somewhat tarnished silver brooch, an ornament her niece had never before seen.  Attired thus, she certainly would have attracted attention, had there been any one there to see, but the yard was empty, and the house door closed.  She descended the steps, crossed the yard with what might be termed a buoyant gait, and, mounting the porch, knocked on the door with the handle of her umbrella.  After some delay a colored woman appeared, and as soon as the door was opened, Mrs Keswick walked in.

“Where is your master?” said she, forgetting all about the Emancipation Act.

“Mahs’ Robert is in the libery,” said the woman.

“And where are Miss Roberta March and Master Junius Keswick?”