"She is just like--" began Harry, then he stopped. He had been about
to state that Maria was just like her mother in that respect, but he
had remembered suddenly that he was speaking to his second wife.

However, Ida finished his remark for him with perfect good-nature.
She had not the slightest jealousy of Harry's first wife, only a sort
of contempt, that she had gotten so little where she herself had
gotten so much.

"Maria's own mother was very particular, wasn't she, dear?" she said.

"Very," replied Harry.

"Maria takes it from her, without any doubt," Ida said, smoothly.
"She looked so sweet in that new gown to-day, that I would like to
have the Adamses see her without her coat to-night; and Maria looks
even prettier without her hat, too, her hair grows so prettily on her
temples. Maria grows lovelier every day, it seems to me. I don't know
how many I saw looking at her in church this morning."

"Yes, she is going to be pretty, I guess," said Harry, and again his
very soul seemed warm and light with pleasure and gratitude.

"She _is_ pretty," said Ida, conclusively. "She is at the awkward
age, too. But there is no awkwardness about Maria. She is like a
little fairy."

Harry beamed upon her. "She is as proud as punch when she gets a
chance to take the little one out, and they made a pretty picture
going down the street," said he, "but I hope she won't catch cold. Is