"Surely, it is too early to ask me that," replied Beth, gently. "I am
going to try to like you, and my first sight of my new aunt leads me
to hope I shall succeed."

"Why shouldn't you like me?" cried the old woman. "Why must you try to
like your mother's sister?"

Beth flushed. She had promised herself not to become angry or
discomposed, whatever her aunt might say or do; but before she could
control herself an indignant expression flashed across her face and
Jane Merrick saw it.

"There are reasons," said Beth, slowly, "why your name is seldom
mentioned in my father's family. Until your letter came I scarcely
knew I possessed an aunt. It was your desire we should become better
acquainted, and I am here for that purpose. I hope we shall become
friends, Aunt Jane, but until then, it is better we should not discuss
the past."

The woman frowned. It was not difficult for her to read the character
of the child before her, and she knew intuitively that Beth was
strongly prejudiced against her, but was honestly trying not to allow
that prejudice to influence her. She decided to postpone further
interrogations until another time.

"Your journey has tired you," she said abruptly. "I'll have Misery
show you to your room."

She touched a bell beside her.