There was a long piazza across the front of the house.  In the center was the hall door—­the parlor being on one side, the sitting room on the other.  As Bertha’s eyes roved idly out of the window, she saw Mrs. Bell’s beautiful grays coming down the road, and a carriage full of ladies.  Why, they were actually stopping; the man handed out two ladies and a little girl, and opened the gate for them.

Indeed, the Wilsons had reached Hillside a week earlier than they had expected.  When Ada spoke of her friend, Mrs. Bell proposed that they should call as early as possible, so that Ada and Bertha might see the more of each other.

[Illustration:  “O mother! here they are,”]

“O, mother!” Bertha exclaimed, in astonishment, “here they are—­Ada and Miss Frances, and their aunt.”

“Go and receive them, my dear,” said her mother rising.

Mrs. Bell was very gracious, and with a certain unassuming sweetness that immediately set at ease every one with whom she met.  She and Mrs. Gilbert exchanged very pleasant greetings.  Then they were all led into the sitting room, and Bertha flushed a little.  She seemed to see all its shabbiness at a glance—­the worn spot of carpet by her father’s desk, and another in front of the sofa, the old-fashioned furniture, and grandmother sitting there in her corner, knitting a blue yarn stocking.

Grandma Gilbert rose and courtesied to the ladies.  Her dress had no fashionable trail, but showed her low prunella shoes and white, home-knit stockings.  She was a prim little body, looking as neat as a pin, but very old-fashioned.

Mrs. Bell presently crossed over to her.  “It looks quite like old times to see any one knitting,” she said, in her low, pleasant voice.  “I think there ought to be a grandmother in every house; they always give a place such a comfortable, homelike look.  I remember how my great-grandmother used to knit when I was a little girl.”

“It isn’t of much account,” returned grandmother.  “Stockings are so cheap nowadays; but I do think hum-knit wears better for boys.  Willie and George do scour out stockings ‘mazin’ fast.  And then it serves to keep an old woman like me busy.”

[Illustration:  "It looks quite like old times to see anyone knitting."]

Ada Wilson glanced up with a peculiar look, and Bertha flushed.  The young ladies at Mrs. Howard’s were taught to pronounce their words correctly, and were not allowed to use any careless phrases.

Mrs. Bell continued the conversation, however, and grandmother did her best to be entertaining.  But she was old-fashioned, and confused her grammar in various ways.  Ada, in the meantime, showed a strong disposition to laugh, and finally begged Bertha to take her out to look at the flowers.

“O dear!” she exclaimed, as they went around the walk at the side of the house; “O dear!  Isn’t your grandmother a funny old woman!  I couldn’t keep my face sober.”  Ada laughed as if she considered it very amusing.