Much had befallen the house of Underwood since the days when we took
leave of them, still sorrowing under the loss of the main pillar of
their house, but sending forth the new founders with good hope.

Geraldine had made her home at St. Matthew's with her brother Clement
and the little delicate orphan Gerald; but after three years she had
yielded to the persevering constancy of Mr. Grinstead, a sculptor of
considerable genius and repute, much older than herself, who was
ready and willing to be a kind uncle to her little charge, and who
introduced her to all at home or abroad that was refined,
intellectual, or beautiful.

It was in the first summer after their marriage that he was charmed
with the vivacity and musical talent of her young sister Angela, now
upon the world again. Angela had grown up as the pet and plaything
of the Sisters of St. Faith's at Dearport, which she regarded as
another home, and when crushed by grief at her eldest brother's death
had hurried thither for solace. Her family thought her safe there,
not realizing how far life is from having its final crisis over at
one-and-twenty. New Sisters came in, old ones went to found fresh
branches; stricter rules grew, up, and were enforced by a Superior
out of sympathy with the girl, who had always rebelled against what
she thought dictation. It was decided that she could stay there no
longer, and her brother Lancelot and his wife received her at
Marshlands with indignant sympathy for her wrongs; but neither she
nor her sister-in-law were made to suit one another. With liberty
her spirit and audacity revived, and she showed so much attraction
towards the Salvation Army, that her brother declared their music to
have been the chief deterrent from her becoming a "Hallelujah lass."