paused before the tall iron gate, she was seized with the
fear that it might not seem very grand to one who had seen so much of
the world.

Frances' critical eye was pleased, however; "I really think it does look
like a palace," she said, with the air of having lived among palaces.

It was a somewhat imposing mansion, with a row of graceful columns
across the front, and a broad flight of steps leading to the entrance.
It stood in the midst of a beautiful green lawn on which were a few fine
old trees and shrubs.

"Just wait till you see the inside," said Emma, delightedly, as they
stood before the stately door; but alas! when it was opened the hall was
seen all dismantled; evidently house-cleaning was going on.

After some hesitation the servant showed them into a room which was,
like the hall, in disorder. It seemed to be a library, but the furniture
was all covered, the floor was bare, and the sun streamed in through
uncurtained windows. The most prominent object in the room was a picture
which hung over the mantel, and this at once caught Frances' attention.

It was the portrait of a girl apparently about her own age, whose sunny
eyes smiled down in the friendliest way. Her brown hair curled loosely
over her shoulders; her dress, of some soft, silken brocade of warm,
rich colors, was quaintly made and fell almost to her feet; her neck and
arms were bare, and her dimpled hands clasped lightly before her. There
was a grace and buoyancy in the pose which was very charming; Frances
was enchanted.

"Isn't she lovely! Who is she, do you suppose?" she asked; but Emma
could tell her nothing about it, she had never been in this room before.

"I believe she is like you, Frances," she said, looking critically at
the picture.

"I am sure I am not half so pretty as that! She makes me think of
something-- I don't know exactly what," and Frances wrinkled her brow in
a puzzled way. She was completely fascinated, and continued to gaze at
the portrait all the while Emma was talking to the woman who came to see
her about the work, hearing nothing till her own name caught her ear.

"It is some relative of Miss Frances," was what she heard, evidently in
reply to a question from Emma.

As soon as they were on the street she inquired who Miss Frances was,
and Emma said she thought she was Mrs. Marvin, the lady who owned the
house. "She is coming home before long, and they are getting ready for
her," she added.

"I should like