’This is Clara, my elder daughter, my dear; and this is Mina.  Is Leonard not home?’

‘Yes, but he won’t come up.  Leonard is our brother,’ Clara explained to Gladys,—­’rather a spoiled boy, and he is mortally afraid of new girls, as he calls them.  But you will see him at dinner.’

In spite of a natural stateliness of look and manner, Clara had a kind way with her.  She took off their guest’s cloak, and drew a comfortable chair forward to the tea-table, while her sister made out the tea.

‘Where’s papa?  Did he not come with you?’ she asked her mother, leaving Gladys a moment to herself.

’No; he went off at St. Vincent Street.  He has been away from business all day, you know.’

‘Oh yes.  This has been a sad day for you,’ said Clara sympathetically, turning to Gladys.  ’Mamma has told us how lonely you are, but we shall try to cheer you.  Won’t we, Mina?’

‘Suppose you begin by giving her some tea?’ said Mrs. Fordyce.  ’Then she must have a little rest.  She has very long cared for others, she must have a taste of being cared for now.’

Gladys could not speak a word.  She felt at home.  A vague, delicious sense of rest stole over her as she listened to these kind words, and felt the subtle, beautiful influences of the place about her.  It was only a pleasant family room, which taste and wealth had appointed and adorned, but it seemed like a king’s palace to the girl who had long walked in the darker places of the earth.  Seeing her thus moved, mother and daughters talked to each other, discussing the pleasant gossip of the day, which always seems to gather round the table at five-o’clock tea.

’Now, Clara, you will take Miss Graham up-stairs.  I think you must allow us to call you Gladys, my dear,’ said Mrs. Fordyce.  ’I am going to leave you in charge of Clara.  When you know us better, you will find out that it takes Mina all her time to take charge of herself.’

Mina shook her finger at her mother, and a slight blush rose to her happy face.

’Too bad, mamma, to prejudice Miss Graham against me.  The difference between my sister and me,’ she added, turning to Gladys, ’is that Clara is always proper and conventional, and I am the reverse.  You can never catch her unawares or in an untidy gown, she is always just as immaculate as you see her now; while I am—­well, just as the spirit moves me.’  She swept a little mocking courtesy to her sister, who only smiled and shook her head, then taking Gladys by the arm, led her from the drawing-room.

’You must not mind Mina.  She often speaks without thinking, but she never wishes to hurt any one,’ she said.  ’We have both been so sorry for you since papa told us about you, and we hope you will feel happy and at home with us here.’

‘Oh, I am sure I shall, you are all so kind,’ cried Gladys impulsively.  It was natural that she should exaggerate any little courtesy or kindness shown to her, she had known so little of it in her life.