She had passed so lightly from Mr. Brandreth's heroic spirit to her son's
nose that Annie, woman as she was, and born to these bold bounds over
sequence, was not sure where they had arrived, till Mrs. Munger added:
"Jim's used to these things. I'm thankful it wasn't a finger, or an eye.
What is _that_?" She jumped from her chair, and swooped upon the
Spanish-Roman water-colour Annie had stood against some books on the table,
pending its final disposition.

"It's only a Guerra," said Annie. "My things are all scattered about still;
I have scarcely tried to get into shape yet."

Mrs. Munger would not let her interpose any idea of there being a past
between them. She merely said: "You knew the Herricks at Rome, of course.
I'm in hopes I shall get them here when they come back. I want you to help
me colonise Hatboro' with the right sort of people: it's so easy to get the
wrong sort! But, so far, I think we've succeeded beyond our wildest dreams.
It's easy enough to get nice people together at the seaside; but inland!
No; it's only a very few nice people who will come into the country for the
summer; and we propose to make Hatboro' a winter colony too; that gives us
agreeable invalids, you know; it gave us the Brandreths. He told you of our
projected theatricals, I suppose?"

"Yes," said Annie non-committally, "he did."

"I know just how you feel about it, my dear," said Mrs. Munger. "'Been
there myself,' as Jim says. But it grows upon you. I'm glad you didn't
refuse outright;" and Mrs. Munger looked at her with eyes of large
expectance.

"No, I didn't," said Annie, obliged by this expectance to say something.