was a very
attractive-looking woman. She was rather slight and of medium height,
and she was quietly dressed in black, for she was in mourning. Though
not actually pretty, she had a charming and very expressive face, and
she was very young-looking. Somebody who sat in front of her said that
her voice was low and very musical.

Brenton decided at the first glance that Mr. John Franklin had done very
well for himself.

"There is the carriage," said he, as they crossed the station platform.

"And this is Jack, I am sure," said his wife, holding out her hand with
a smile which won her step-son on the spot. He was too shy, however, to
do more than grasp it warmly as he stood beside her with uncovered head.

"He is a dear," she said to herself, "and just like John. If only the
others are as cordial. Somehow I dread Edith."

She was quite as excited as were her step-daughters when she drove up
the avenue, and her eyes fell for the first time upon the group on the
piazza.

Cynthia walked down the path to meet her, holding Janet and Willy by
either hand. Edith remained standing on the step.

"How do you do?" said Cynthia, with a cordial smile.

Mrs. Franklin looked at her. Then she put her arms around her and kissed
her.

"This is Cynthia, I am sure," she whispered, tremulously, "and these are
'the children.'"

She kissed them and passed on to her husband's eldest daughter, while
they greeted their father.

Edith was very tall, and her position on the step gave her the advantage
of several inches in addition. She fairly towered above the new-comer.

"How do you do, Mrs. Franklin?" she said, holding out a very stiff hand
and arm. She had made up her mind that she for one would not be kissed.

"And are you Edith?"

"Yes, Mrs. Franklin. I am Edith. I hope your journey has not tired you?"

"Not at all. I am not easily tired."

Edith kissed her father, then turned again to the stranger.

"Let me show you the way upstairs."

And thus Mrs. Franklin entered her new home.

"I am afraid it is going to be war with Edith at first, but I won't be
disheartened," she thought. "I'll make her like me. It is natural for
her to feel so, I suppose. Ah me, I am in a difficult position."

* * * * *

Edith and Cynthia shared the same room. It was a large one with a
bay-window, which commanded a fine view of the winding river and the
meadows beyond.

One could tell at a glance upon entering th