there that very likely you won't come near Sally at all. It don't look
right for you to stay away. You don't know how much folks think of Sally
now. She's been asked to the minister's to tea, she and James, with
Hetty and the doctor, several times."

"She hain't, has she?" exclaimed Mrs. Little, quite thrown off her
balance by this unexpected piece of news, which the wary deacon had been
holding in reserve, as a good general holds his biggest guns, for some
special occasion. "You don't tell me so! Well, well, folks must do as
they like. For my part, I call that downright countenancing of iniquity.
And I don't know how she could have the face to go, either. I must say,
I have some curiosity to see how she behaves among folks."

"She's as modest and pretty in her ways as ever a girl could be,"
replied the deacon, who had learned during the past year to love his
son's wife; "you won't have any call to be ashamed of her. I can tell
you that much beforehand."

When Mrs. Little's eyes first fell upon her daughter-in-law, she gave
an involuntary start. In the two years during which Mrs. Little had not
seen her, Sally had changed from a timid, nervous, restless woman to a
calm and dignified one. Very much of her old girlish beauty had returned
to her, with an added sweetness from her sorrow. As she moved among the
guests, speaking with gentle greeting to each, all eyes followed her
with evident pleasure and interest. She wore a soft gray gown, which
clung closely to her graceful figure: one pale pink carnation at her
throat, and one in her hair, were her only ornaments. When Raby, with
his white frock and blue ribbons, was in her arms, the picture was one
which would have delighted an artist's eye. Mrs. Little felt a strange
mingling of pride and irritation at what she saw. Very keenly James