and the elder Miss Bertram. That lady was tall, fair, and faded; she had
a sharp, handsome nose, and a high forehead; and her eyes, which hardly
ever met those of the person with whom she talked, gave the impression
of a soul preoccupied, with few or none of the ordinary human
curiosities.

Mrs. Roughsedge, on the other hand, was most human, motherly, and
inquisitive. She wore two curls on either side of her face held by small
combs, a large bonnet, and an ample cloak. It was clear that whatever
adoration she could spare from her husband was lavished on her son. But
there was still enough good temper and good will left to overflow upon
the rest of mankind. She perceived in a moment that Mrs. Colwood was the
new "companion" to the heiress, that she was a widow, and sad--in spite
of her cheerfulness.

"Now I hope Miss Mallory is going to _like_ us!" she said, with a touch
of confidential good-humor, as she drew Mrs. Colwood a little behind the
others. "We are all in love with her already. But she must be patient
with us. We're very humdrum folk!"

Mrs. Colwood could only say that Miss Mallory seemed to be in love with
everything--the house, the church, the village, and the neighbors. Mrs.
Roughsedge shook her gray curls, smiling, as she replied that this was
no doubt partly due to novelty. After her long residence abroad, Miss
Mallory was--it was very evident--glad to come home. Poor thing--she
must have known a great deal of trouble--an only child, and no mother!
"Well, I'm sure if there's anything _we_ can do--"

Mrs. Roughsedge nodded cheerfully towards her husband and son in front.
The gesture awakened a certain natural reserve in Mrs. Colwood, followed