Miss Slome was so kind to Maria, in those days, that it really seemed
to her that she ought to love her. She and her father were invited to
take tea at Miss Slome's boarding-house, and after tea they sat in
the little parlor which the teacher had for her own, and Miss Slome
sang and played to them. She had a piano. Maria heard her and her
father talking about the place in the Edgham parlor where it was to
stand. Harry stood over Miss Slome as she was singing, and Maria
observed how his arm pressed against her shoulder.

After the song was done, Harry and Miss Slome sat down on the sofa,
and Harry drew Maria down on the other side. Harry put his arm around
his little daughter, but not as if he realized it, and she peeked
around and saw how closely he was embracing Miss Slome, whose cheeks
were a beautiful color, but whose set smile never relaxed. It seemed
to Maria that Miss Slome smiled exactly like a doll, as if the smile
were made on her face by something outside, not by anything within.
Maria thought her father was very silly. She felt scorn, shame, and
indignation at the same time. Maria was glad when it was time to go
home. When her father kissed Miss Slome, she blushed, and turned away
her head.

Going home, Harry almost danced along the street. He was as
light-hearted as a boy, and as thoughtlessly in love.

"Well, dear, what do you think of your new mother?" he asked, gayly,
as they passed under the maples, which were turning, and whose
foliage sprayed overhead with a radiance of gold in the electric
light.