sly but with her usual air of determination. She
remarked tensely to the beaming gentleman beside her, "Wave to them,
James, please. I can't spare a hand."

When the excited greetings were over, Jemima looked about her with a
contented sigh. "New York was very grand and rich, but I'm glad to be
back in this queer, shabby old house. Aunt Jemima asked all about
everything, Mother--whether you had left the stuffed horse's head on the
wall, whether the turkeys still tried to roost on the front porch, what
you had done with father's old servants, especially Mahaly--she seemed
to be particularly interested in Mahaly, for some reason or other. I
told her everything was just as it had been always--and it is, thank
goodness!" She spoke as if she had expected to find cataclysmic changes
after an absence of three weeks. "Dogs overrunning the place, and Big
Liza warbling at the top of her lungs in the kitchen, and you in your
second-best riding skirt at this hour in the afternoon--naughty mother!
Everything just the same as if--" Her roving eyes chanced to rest on her
sister's face, and she stopped short.

"So you saw your Aunt Jemima?" asked Kate quickly, to change the
subject.

"Oh, yes, of course, Mother. That's one reason we went to New York." She
was full of the visit to her father's aunt, and forgot for the moment
her shock at the change in Jacqueline. "Such a wonderful place--a house
as big as a hotel, and lawns that are evidently shaved and clipped and
bathed as regularly as her pet poodle. But--think of it! She is seventy
years old, and powdered and rouged like an actress!--Her manner was just
a little--patronizing at first, but she soon got over that."

Thorpe chuckled. "My wife astonished her into a lamb-like meekness. She
informed her that while she resembled the Kildare portraits to some
slight degree, most of them were rather handsomer."

"Jemmy! Why, she was a famous beauty in her day!"

"Well, she isn't now; and I did not care for her manner," said the
bride, calmly. "Besides, as it turned out, she liked rudeness. Some
people do, you know. They think it's smart, and she's a very smart old
person--likes a fast motor-car, and plays cards for money--hates to
lose, too--and smokes, Mother! I kept thinking how surprised you would
have been to see her."

"Pooh, that's nothing," said Jacqueline, moved to defend the honor of
Storm. "Lots of women around here smoke. Why, you'll catch Big Liza with
a pipe in her mouth