face, Mary."

"Do not you think his forehead like--" and she looked to the end of the
room where hung the portraits of two young children, the brothers
Geoffrey and Frederick. Henrietta had often longed to see it, but now
she could attend to nothing but her mamma.

"Like poor dear Frederick?" said grandmamma. "Well, I can't judge by
firelight, you know, my dear, but I should say they were both your very
image."

"You can't be the image of any one I should like better," said Mr.
Langford, turning to them cheerfully, and taking Henrietta's hand.
"I wish nothing better than to find you the image of your mamma inside
and out."

"Ah, there's Geoffrey!" cried Mrs. Langford, springing up and almost
running to meet him.

"Well, Geoffrey, how d'ye do?" added his father with an indescribable
tone and look of heartfelt delight. "Left all your cares behind you?"

"Left my wife behind me," said Uncle Geoffrey, making a rueful face.

"Ay, it is a sad business that poor Beatrice cannot come," said both
the old people, "but how is poor Lady Susan?"

"As usual, only too nervous to be left with none of the family at hand.
Well, Mary, you look tired."