Maria had been dressed at home, under Mrs. White’s supervision.  Maria had viewed herself in the new long mirror in her mother’s room, which was now resplendent with its new furnishings, and she admitted to herself that she was lovelier than she had ever been, and that she had Miss Ida Slome to thank for it.

“I will say one thing,” said Mrs. White, “she has looked out for you about your dress, and she has shown real good taste, too.”

Maria turned herself about before the glass, which reflected her whole beautiful little person, and she loved herself so much that for the first time it seemed to her that she almost loved Ida.  She was blushing and smiling with pleasure.

Mrs. White sighed.  “Well, maybe it is for the best,” said she.  “One never knows about such things, how they will work out.”

Maria listened, with a degree of indignation and awe, to the service.  She felt her heart swelling with grief at the sight of this other woman being made her father’s wife and put in the place of her own mother, and yet, as a musical refrain is the haunting and ever-recurrent part of a composition, so was her own charming appearance.  She felt so sure that people were observing her, that she blushed and dared not look around.  She was, in reality, much observed, and both admired and pitied.

People, both privately and outspokenly, did not believe that the step-mother would be, in a way, good to the child by the former marriage.  Ida Slome was not exactly a favorite in Edgham.  People acquiesced in her beauty and brilliancy, but they did not entirely believe in her or love her.  She stood before the pulpit with her same perfect, set smile, displaying to the utmost the sweet curves of her lips.  Her cheeks retained their lovely brilliancy of color.  Harry trembled, and his face looked pale and self-conscious, but Ida displayed no such weakness.  She replied with the utmost self-poise to the congratulations which she received after the ceremony.  There was an informal reception in the church vestry.  Cake and ice-cream and coffee were served, and Ida and Harry and Maria stood together.  Ida had her arm around Maria most of the time, but Maria felt as if it were an arm of wood which encircled her.  She heard Ida Slome addressed as Mrs. Edgham, and she wanted to jerk herself away and run.  She lost the consciousness of herself in her new attire.

Once Harry looked around at her, and received a shock.  Maria’s face looked to him exactly like her mother’s, although the coloring was so different.  Maria was a blonde, and her mother had been dark.  There was something about the excitement hardly restrained in her little face, which made the man realize that the dead wife yet lived and reigned triumphant in her child.  He himself was conscious that he conducted himself rather awkwardly and foolishly.  A red spot burned on either cheek.  He spoke jerkily, and it seemed to him that everything he said was silly,