nday Mrs. Pinkerton joined us at the dinner-table. I knew she
would not be guilty of the incivility of staying away.

"You remember my friends, Mr. and Mrs. Marston?" I said, by way of
introduction, as she came in.

"I remember them very well," was the reply; "too well," the tone
implied. I made a special effort to be talkative, and to keep others
talking during the dinner. It was very hard work, and I met with
indifferent success. It was not a pleasant dinner. Mr. Desmond alone
appeared not to mind the restraint, and he alone ventured to address the
widow. She was polite, but far from sociable. We contrived to pass the
afternoon tolerably, but not at all in the spirit which I wished to have
prevail when I had friends to visit me, and all because of that
presence.

After they were gone, I took occasion to introduce the subject, for I
had learned that Mrs. Pinkerton's skill in expressing her disapproval in
her manner was so great that she relied on it almost altogether, and
rarely resorted to words for the purpose.

"I am afraid you did not enjoy the company very much to-day," I said, as
we were sitting in the little parlor, overlooking an exquisite flower
garden.

"No, sir," she answered, with the old emphasis on the "sir." "I do not
approve of company on the Sabbath, and I had hoped you would never again
bring those Marstons into my presence at any time."

"Excuse me, madam; but I propose to be my own judge of whom I shall
invite to visit me, and of the time and occasion. I presume you admit my
right to do so."

"Certainly, sir. I never disputed it, and had no intention of saying
anything if you had not introduced the subject."

"I introduced the subject for the very purpose; in fact, I brought out
the company for the very purpose of vindicating my right, and it would
be very gratifying to me if you would concede it cheerfully, and not, by
your manner and way of treating my friends, interfere with it
hereafter."

I was almost astonished at my own courage and spirit, and still more so
at Mrs. Pinkerton's reply. It was dusky and I could not see her face,
but her voice trembled and choked as she answered,--

"God knows I do not wish to interfere with your happiness. Bessie's
happiness has been my one thought for years, and now it is bound up with
yours. I have my own notions, which I cannot easily discard, but I would
not do or say anything that would mar your enjoyment for the world. I
have long felt that I