hich Theodora remembered so well.
The girl stood leaning on the piano, quite forgetful of the dusting, as
she stared up into the loving eyes above her, and, while she looked, two
great tears came into her eyes, and two more, and more yet. Then
Theodora suddenly bowed her head on her folded arms, and sobbed with the
intensity of such natures as hers.

"Oh, Mamma McAlister," she cried; "come back to us! We do want you, and
we don't want her. Your Teddy is so lonely. I won't have that woman here
in your place. I won't! I won't!"

She raised her head again to look at the smiling lips and the tender
eyes. Then abruptly she dragged forward a chair, climbed to the top of
the piano and took down the portrait which had hung there since the day
of its first entering the house.

It was late, that afternoon, when the carriage stopped before the house,
and Dr. McAlister, with his bride on his arm, came up the walk. The
children were waiting to greet them, Phebe perched on the fence, Hope
on the steps with Allyn clinging to her hand, and the twins in the
doorway, while old Susan stood in the hall, ready to welcome her new
mistress.

There was the little flurry of meeting, the swift buzz of talk. Then
Hope led the way into the great, airy parlor which she had not entered
before, that day.

On the threshold, she paused, aghast. Directly facing her stood a large
easel which usually held a fine engraving of the Dolorosa. To-day,
however, the Dolorosa was displaced. It stood on the floor by the piano,
and in its place was the portrait of Hope's own mother, looking up to
greet the woman who had come to take her place in the home. Across the
corner of the frame lay a pile of white bride roses, tied with a heavy
purple ribbon.

"Don't mind it, Jack," Mrs. McAlister said to her husband, as soon as
they were alone together. "I like the child's spirit. Leave it to me,
please. I think I can make friends with her before long."

Theodora was standing before the mirror, that night, brush in hand,
while the wavy masses of her hair fell about her like a heavy cape. Her
eyes looked dull, and the corners of her mouth drooped dejectedly. She
started suddenly when an unexpected knock came at her door.

"Come," she responded.

The door swung open, and Mrs. McAlister stood on the threshold. In her
trailing blue wrapper with its little lace ruffles at the throat and
wrists, she looked younger than she had done in her travelling gown, and
the pur