Rhodora never saw Grandmother till a fortnight ago, when the girl
arrived to pay her a visit.

"I wanted to see you people so much," explained Rhodora, coming breezily
upon the porch a step or two in advance of the old lady, "that I thought
I'd drive over. Grandmother wanted to come too, so I brought her."

Grandmother's dark eyebrows below her white curls went up a trifle. It
was quite evident that she thought she had brought Rhodora, inasmuch as
the carriage, the horses, and the old family coachman were all her own.
But she did not correct the girl. She is a tiny little lady, with a
gentle, somewhat hesitating manner, but her black eyes are very bright,
and she sees things with almost as keen a vision as Lad himself.

The Gay Lady was charmed with Grandmother. She put the frail visitor
into the easiest chair on the porch, untied her bonnet-strings, smoothed
her soft, white curls, and brought a footstool for her little feet. Then
she sat by her, listening and talking--doing much more listening than
talking--leaving Rhodora to me.

"I'm sorry our men are away to-day," I said to Rhodora, "and Lad is with
them. They went early this morning to climb Bluebeard Mountain, and
won't be back till night. It is rather quiet here without them."

"Are they young and jolly?" inquired Rhodora.

"They are extremely jolly. As for being young, that depends upon one's
point of view," said I. "They are between twenty-five and thirty-five, I
believe."