“Not Mary’s grand-daughter, of whom I heard! Some one wrote me that she had been discovered. Hurry, Columbus! Dear! dear! where are those girls?”
“Those girls” soon appeared, the frivolous Babe all fluttering ends of ribbon and gay apparel, the inevitable blue bow perched upon her hair.
“See, Sidney! see, Babe! this is Mary Carter’s grandchild,—the fair one. Isn’t it wonderful? And we always heard she left no child.”
“Isn’t it wonderful?” repeated the other two sisters in a breath.
“There is a little look of the Carters about her, I think,” continued Miss Cyrene, scrutinizing Annis closely.
“This is Mary Carter’s grandchild.”
“A little look of the Carters,” echoed the two sisters. And Persis gave Annis a glance which nearly upset the latter’s gravity.
The conversation continued to be carried on in this manner; playful allusions were made to Babe’s being so thoughtless, and these were received by the youngest sister with slight bridlings and protestations of, “Now, Cyrene, not always.”
All the family news was dispensed, and an urgent invitation was given the visitors to make this house their stopping-place. This, however, was declined, but a compromise was made by giving a promise to spend an afternoon with the old ladies; and the girls, with Mrs. Estabrook, departed.