han his sister; younger than she, too, and still vigorous.
Unlike her, also, he was a handsome man; had been very handsome in his
young days; and, as Mrs. Barclay's eye roved over the table, she
thought few could show a better assemblage of comeliness than was
gathered round this one. Madge was strikingly handsome in her
well-fitting black dress; Lois made a very plain brown stuff seem
resplendent; she had a little fleecy white woollen shawl wound about
her shoulders, and Mrs. Barclay could hardly keep her eyes away from
the girl. And if the other members of the party were less beautiful in
feature, they had every one of them in a high degree the stamp of
intellect and of character. Mrs. Barclay speculated upon the strange
society in which she found herself; upon the odd significance of her
being there; and on the possible outcome, weighty and incalculable, of
the connection of the two things. So intently that she almost forgot
what she was eating, and she started at Mrs. Marx's sudden
question--"Well, how do you like it? Charity, give Mrs. Barclay some
pickles--what she likes; there's sweet pickle, that's peaches; and
sharp pickle, that's red cabbage; and I don' know which of 'em she
likes best; and give her some apple--have you got any apple sauce, Mrs.
Barclay?"

"Thank you, everything; and everything is delicious."

"That's how things are gen'ally, in Mrs. Marx's hands," remarked uncle
Tim. "There ain't her beat for sweets and sours in all the country."

"Mrs. Barclay's accustomed to another sort o' doings," said their
hostess. "I didn't know but she mightn't like our ways."

"I like them very much, I assure you."

"There ain't no better ways than Shampuashuh ways," said uncle Tim. "If
there be, I'd like to see 'em once. Lois, you never see a handsomer
dinner'n this in New York, did you? Come now, and tell. _Did_ you?"

"I never saw a dinner where things were better of their kind, uncle
Tim."

Mrs. Barclay smiled to herself. That will do, she thought.

"Is that an answer?" said uncle Tim. "I'll be shot if I know."

"It is as good an answer as I can give," returned Lois, smiling.

"Of course she has seen handsomer!" said Mrs. Marx. "If you talk of
elegance, we don't pretend to it in Shampuashuh. Be thankful if what
you have got is good, uncle Tim; and leave the rest."

"Well, I don't understand," responded uncle Tim. "Why shouldn't
Shampuashuh be elegant, I don't see? Ain't this elegant enough for
anybod