“Mother Castle! what is the meaning of this masquerade?” demanded her daughter-in-law, raising a gold-handled lorgnette through which to stare at the old lady.
“Thank you, Daughter Sarah,” returned Mrs. Castle, tartly. “I consider that from you a compliment. I expect that a gown, fitted to my age and position in life, does look like a fancy dress to you.”
“Ho, ho!” roared her son, suddenly doubled up with laughter. “She’s got you there, Sadie, I swear! Mother, you look just as your own mother used to look. I remember grandma well enough.”
“Thank you, Rufus,” said the old lady, and there were tears in her eyes. “Your grandmother was a fine woman.”
“’Deed she was,” admitted Mr. Castle, who was getting out of the car heavily. He now came forward and kissed his mother warmly. “Well, if you like this, I don’t see why you shouldn’t have it,” he added, standing off and looking at her plain dress, and her cap, and the little shawl over her shoulders.
The girls and Master Tom had already kissed her; now Mrs. Castle the younger got down and pecked at her mother-in-law’s cheek.
“I’m sure,” she said, “I’ve always done everything to make you feel at home with us, Mother Castle. I’ve tried to make you one of the family right along. And you belong to the same clubs I do. Surely—”
“That’s just exactly it!” cried the little old lady, shaking her head. “I don’t belong in the same clubs with you. I don’t want to belong to any club–unless it’s a grandmothers’ club. And I want simple living–and country air—”
“And all these Rubes?” chuckled Mr. Castle, waving his hand to take in the surrounding country.
“Quite so, Rufus. But you would better postpone your criticisms until— Ah, let me introduce my son, Mr. Colesworth,” she added, as the old gentleman and Harris appeared from the side yard. “And young Mr. Harris Colesworth, of the Commonwealth Chemical Company. Perhaps you’ve heard of the Colesworths, Rufus?”