bid her stay.

"Phoebe," she said, on the following morning, "this house of mine is but
a melancholy place for a young person to be in. It lets in the wind and
rain, and the snow, too, in the winter time; but it never lets in the
sunshine! And as for myself, you see what I am--a dismal and lonesome
old woman, whose temper is none of the best, and whose spirits are as
bad as can be. I cannot make your life pleasant, Cousin Phoebe; neither
can I so much as give you bread to eat."

"You will find me a cheerful little body," answered Phoebe, smiling,
"and I mean to earn my bread. You know I have not been brought up a
Pyncheon. A girl learns many things in a New England village."

"Ah, Phoebe," said Hepzibah, sighing, "it is a wretched thought that you
should fling away your young days in a place like this. And, after all,
it is not even for me to say who shall be a guest or inhabitant of the
old Pyncheon house. Its master is coming."

"Do you mean Judge Pyncheon?" asked Phoebe, in surprise.

"Judge Pyncheon!" answered her cousin angrily. "He will hardly cross the
threshold while I live. You shall see the face of him I speak of."

She went in quest of a miniature, and returned and placed it in Phoebe's
hand.

"How do you like the face?" asked Hepzibah.

"It is handsome; it is very beautiful!" said Phoebe admiringly. "It is