“I’m sure we can,” said Marjorie, heartily, and deep in her heart she registered a vow that she would succeed this time.

After luncheon was over, Pompton brought the car around, and they started off again.  Marjorie bade Ethel good-bye with a feeling of regret that she did not live nearer, so she might have her for a friend.  But she had her autograph as a souvenir, and she intended to work her tablecloth very neatly, so it would look as good as Ethel’s.

The afternoon ride was not a long one, and before four o’clock they came in sight of the tall towers of the New York buildings.

The children had never approached the city in a motor car before, and were enthusiastic over the view of it.  Mr. Maynard pointed out the different business buildings, some of which they already recognized.  They had to cross a downtown ferry, and soon they were speeding north through the streets of crowded traffic.

As they neared Grandma Maynard’s house in Fifth Avenue, Mrs. Maynard looked over her brood carefully to see if they were in proper order for presentation.

Except for slight evidences of travel, they all looked neat and tidy, and the girls’ pretty motor garb was becoming and correct.  Rosy Posy as usual, looked the pink of perfection, for the child had a knack of keeping herself dainty and fresh even in difficult circumstances.

Satisfied with her inspection, Mrs. Maynard gave them final injunctions to behave correctly, and then they reached the house.

The children had been there before, but they did not go often, and for the last two years the elder Maynards had been travelling abroad.  So they felt almost like strangers as they entered the lofty and dimly lighted hall, to which they were admitted by an imposing-looking footman in livery.

Ushered into the reception room, the visitors found themselves in the presence of their host and hostess.

Grandma and Grandpa Maynard were most worthy and estimable people; but they were not very young, and they had lived all their lives in an atmosphere of convention and formality.  They did not realize that this was different from the mode of living preferred by their son’s family, and indeed they were so accustomed to their own ways that it never occurred to them that there were any others.

Mr. and Mrs. Maynard appreciated and understood all this, and accepted the situation as it stood.

But the children, impressed by the admonitions of their parents, and oppressed by the severe and rigid effects of the house, turned into quiet little puppets, quite different from their usual merry selves.

Although the elder Maynards’ greetings were formal, Mr. and Mrs. Maynard, Jr., were cordial in their manner.  Mr. Maynard shook his father heartily by the hand, and kissed his mother tenderly, and Mrs. Maynard did the same.

Marjorie endeavored to do exactly as her parents did, but as she began to chatter to her grandfather, Grandma Maynard told her that children should be seen and not heard, and bade her sit down on a sofa.  The old lady had no intention of hurting Marjorie’s feelings, but she meant exactly what she said, and it irritated her to hear a child chatter.