triumphant ease the slope of every year. Eudora passed out of
sight with the baby-carriage, lifting her proud lady-head under
the soft droop of the spring boughs; and her inspectors, whom she
had not seen, moved back from the Glynn windows with exclamations
of astonishment.

"I wonder," said Abby, "whether she will have that baby call her
ma or aunty."

Meantime Eudora passed down the village street until she reached
the Lancaster house, about half a mile away on the same side.
There dwelt the Misses Amelia and Anna Lancaster, who were about
Eudora's age, and a widowed sister, Mrs. Sophia Willing, who was
much older. The Lancaster house was also a colonial mansion,
much after the fashion of Eudora's, but it showed signs of
continued opulence. Eudora's, behind her trees and leafing
vines, was gray for lack of paint. Some of the colonial
ornamental details about porches and roof were sloughing off or
had already disappeared. The Lancaster house gleamed behind its
grove of evergreen trees as white and perfect as in its youth.
The windows showed rich slants of draperies behind their green
glister of old glass.

A gardener, with a boy assistant, was at work in the grounds when
Eudora entered. He touched his cap. He was an old man who had
lived with the Lancasters ever since Eudora could remember. He
advanced toward her now. "Sha'n't Tommy push--the baby-carriage
up to the house for you, Miss Eudora?" he said, in his cracked
old voice.