n to him.
"We have met before, I believe," said he, and warmly shaking her hand
he bade her welcome to Boston.
Then seating her by his side at the table he managed by his kind
attentions to make both her and Mrs. Mason feel perfectly at home.
Aunt Martha, too, was exceedingly polite, but after what Ida had told
her, Mary could not help feeling somewhat embarrassed in her presence.
This, however, gradually wore away, and before the evening was over
she began to feel very much at home, and to converse with Aunt Martha
as freely and familiarly as with Ida.
The next morning between ten and eleven the door bell rang, and in a
moment Jenny Lincoln, whose father's house was just opposite, came
tripping into the parlor. She had lost in a measure that rotundity of
person so offensive to her mother, and it seemed to Mary that there
was a thoughtful expression on her face never seen there before, but
in all other respects, she was the same affectionate, merry-hearted
Jenny.
"I just this minute heard you were here, and came over just as I was,"
said she, glancing at the same time at her rich, though rather untidy
morning wrapper. After asking Mary if she wasn't sorry George had
gone, and if she expected to find Mr. Stuart, she said, "I suppose you
know Ella is here, and breaking every body's heart, of course. She
went to a concert with us last evening, and looked perfectly
beautiful. Henry says she is the handsomest girl he ever saw, and I do
hope she'll make something of him, but I'm afraid he is only trifling
with her, just as he tries to do with every body."
"I am afraid so too," said Ida, "but now Mary has come perhaps he'll
divide his attentions between the two."
If there was a person in the world whom Mary thoroughly detested, it
was Henry Lincoln, and the idea of his trifling with _her_, made her
eyes sparkle and flash so indignantly that Ida noticed it, and
secretly thought that Henry Lincoln would for once find his match.
After a time Mary turned to Jenny, saying, "You haven't told me a
word about,--about William Bender. Is he well?"
Jenny blushed deeply, and hastily replying that he was the last time
she saw him, started up, whispering in Mary's ear, "Oh, I've got so
much to tell you,--but I must go now."
Ida accompanied her to the door, and asked why Rose too did not call.
In her usual frank, open way, Jenny answered, "You know why. Rose is
so queer."
Ida understood her and replied, "Very well; but t
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