Mrs. Douglas, who stands between her children, Malcom's arm thrown
half-protectingly about her shoulders, was, or rather is (for our tale
is of recent date and its characters are yet living), a rare woman.
Slender and graceful, clothed in widow's dress, her soft gray hair
framing a still fair and youthful face, she looks a typical American
woman of refinement and culture. And she is all this, and more; for did
she not possess a strong Christian character, wise judgment, and a warm
motherly heart, and were she not ever eager to gain that which is
noblest and best both for herself and her children from every experience
of life, careful Dr. and Mrs. Burnett would never have intrusted their
daughters to her.

Her husband had been a young Scotchman, well-born, finely educated, and
possessed of ample means, whom she had met when a girl travelling abroad
with her parents, and her brief wedded life had been spent in beautiful
Edinburgh, her husband's native city. Very soon after Margery's birth
came the terrible grief of her husband's death, and lonely Elizabeth
Douglas came across the sea, bringing her two fatherless children to
make a home for herself and them among her girlhood friends.

Malcom, a well-developed, manly young fellow, has just graduated from
the Boston Latin School. As he stands beside his mother we see the
military drill he has undergone in his fine carriage, straight
shoulders, and erect head. He has the Scotch complexion, an abundance of
fair hair, and frank, steady eyes that win him the instant trust and
friendship of all who look into them. Though full of a boy's enthusiasm
and fun, yet he seems older than he is, as is usually the case with boys
left fatherless who early feel a certain manly responsibility for the
mother and sisters.