om
a peculiar look in the little old woman's eyes and a slightly scornful
curve of the lower lip as she listened to Jane's talk about the
hospital, all of which was lost on "plain Jane Cobden," as the doctor's
mother invariably called her sister behind her back.

Then the young mind-reader turned her attention to the house and
grounds and the buildings lying above and before her, especially to the
way the matted vines hung to the porches and clambered over the roof
and dormers. Later on she listened to Mrs. Cavendish's description of
its age and ancestry: How it had come down to her from her grandfather,
whose large estate was near Trenton, where as a girl she had spent her
life; how in those days it was but a small villa to which old Nicholas
Erskine, her great-uncle, would bring his guests when the August days
made Trenton unbearable; and how in later years under the big trees
back of the house and over the lawn--"you can see them from where you
sit, my dear"--tea had been served to twenty or more of "the first
gentlemen and ladies of the land."

Jane had heard it all a dozen times before, and so had every other
visitor at Rose Cottage, but to Lucy it was only confirmation of her
latter-day opinion of her hostess. Nothing, however, could be more
gracious than the close attention which the young girl gave Mrs.
Cavendish's every word when the talk was again directed to her, bending
her pretty head and laughing at the right time--a courtesy which so
charmed the dear lady that she insisted on giving first Lucy, and then
Jane, a bunch of roses from her "own favorite bush" before the two
girls took their leave.

With these evidences of her delight made clear, Lucy pushed Rex from
her side--he had become presuming and had left the imprint of his dusty
paw upon her spotless frock--and with the remark that she had other
visits to pay, her only regret being that this one was so short, she
got up from her seat on the step, called Meg, and stood waiting for
Jane with some slight impatience in her manner.

Jane immediately rose from her chair. She had been greatly pleaded at
the impression Lucy had made. Her manner, her courtesy, her respect for
the older woman, her humoring her whims, show her to be the daughter of
a Cobden. As to her own place during the visit, she had never given it
a thought. She would always be willing to act as foil to her
accomplished, brilliant sister if by so doing she could make other
people love Lu