woman on the lounge, who knows
her mother's ambition has been sorely crossed by these single
daughters.

"Not quite, mother mine. Even six months is something. She will not be
able to twit me with seniority."

"But she may with the fact that she has been twice married," says
Marcia.

"I am glad I shall be out of the way of all complications," announces
Laura, in a joyous tone. "But for mourning and the miserable lack of
money I should have been married sooner."

"Laura! At least you owe some respect to your father's memory!" the
mother retorts sharply.

"Nevertheless, I am glad not to be dependent upon Floyd. And, mamma,
you surely ought to rejoice at the prospect of having _one_ daughter
well married," with a little exultant ring in her voice. She is only
eighteen, and has captured both wealth and position, and is longing so
ardently to try her new world. These Grandon girls are not particularly
amiable with one another. Indeed, life seems to have gone wrong with
all of them, and they feel that Floyd alone is to be envied, thanks to
great Aunt Marcia.

"There!" the mother exclaims suddenly, then rising, hurries out on the
balcony. A carriage has turned into the drive, it sweeps around the
gravelled walk with a crunching sound, and the beautiful bays are drawn
up at the very edge of the wide stone steps with a masterly hand.

"Here we are!" cries a young man of one or two and twenty. "There was a
slight accident to the down train and a detention. And I absolutely did
not know Floyd!"

A tall, finely formed man of thirty or so springs out with an elastic
step and clasps Mrs. Grandon in his arms. "My dear, dear mother!" is
all that is said for a moment, and their lips meet with a tenderness
that comforts the mother's heart.

Then he looks a little uncertainly at the two behind her.

"This is Laura, the child when you went away. It is almost nine years
since you have seen her. And Marcia."

"How odd to be introduced to your own brother!" laughs Laura. "But,
Floyd, you look like a Turkish pasha or an Arabian emir." And she eyes
him with undisguised admiration.

Gertrude now crawls slowly out in a long white cashmere robe, with a
pale blue fleecy wrap about her shoulders. She looks tall and ghostly,
and her brother's heart fills with pity, as he seems more closely drawn
to her than to the others.

Then there is a curious little halt, and with one accord they glance
toward the carriage. Floyd flushes under