“It is a little hard on you, my dear,” she said, “to give you so much family on your arrival.  But there are some other people coming to-morrow, when it will be gayer, I hope, for you and Susan.”

“It is so good of you and Susan to want me, Mrs. Holt,” replied Honora, “I am enjoying it so much.  I have never been in a big country house like this, and I am glad there is no one else here.  I have heard my aunt speak of you so often, and tell how kind you were to take charge of me, that I have always hoped to know you sometime or other.  And it seems the strangest of coincidences that I should have roomed with Susan at Sutcliffe.”

“Susan has grown very fond of you,” said Mrs. Holt, graciously.  “We are very glad to have you, my dear, and I must own that I had a curiosity to see you again.  Your aunt struck me as a good and sensible woman, and it was a positive relief to know that you were to be confided to her care.”  Mrs. Holt, however, shook her head and regarded Honora, and her next remark might have been taken as a clew to her thoughts.  “But we are not very gay at Silverdale, Honora.”

Honora’s quick intuition detected the implication of a frivolity which even her sensible aunt had not been able to eradicate.

“Oh, Mrs. Holt,” she cried, “I shall be so happy here, just seeing things and being among you.  And I am so interested in the little bit I have seen already.  I caught a glimpse of your girls’ home on my way from the station.  I hope you will take me there.”

Mrs. Holt gave her a quick look, but beheld in Honora’s clear eyes only eagerness and ingenuousness.

The change in the elderly lady’s own expression, and incidentally in the atmosphere which enveloped her, was remarkable.

“Would you really like to go, my dear?”

“Oh, yes indeed,” cried Honora.  “You see, I have heard so much of it, and I should like to write my aunt about it.  She is interested in the work you are doing, and she has kept a magazine with an article in it, and a picture of the institution.”

“Dear me!” exclaimed the lady, now visibly pleased.  “It is a very modest little work, my dear.  I had no idea that—­out in St. Louis—­that the beams of my little candle had carried so far.  Indeed you shall see it, Honora.  We will go down the first thing in the morning.”

Mrs. Robert, who had been sitting on the other side of the room, rose abruptly and came towards them.  There was something very like a smile on her face,—­although it wasn’t really a smile—­as she bent over and kissed her mother-in-law on the cheek.

“I am glad to hear you are interested in—­charities, Miss Leffingwell,” she said.

Honora’s face grew warm.

“I have not so far had very much to do with them, I am afraid,” she answered.

“How should she?” demanded Mrs. Holt.  “Gwendolen, you’re not going up already?”

“I have some letters to write,” said Mrs. Robert.