"What a mass of it you have!" she said, seating herself and looking up at her stepdaughter who stood before her, not knowing how to meet this unexpected invasion.
The remark seemed to call for no reply, and Theodora took up her brush again.
"Did you have a pleasant journey?" she asked, after a pause.
"Very; but the home-coming was pleasantest of all. It was very sweet of you all to be at the door to welcome me."
"That was Hope's doing," Theodora said bluntly. "She told us we ought to be there when you came."
"It was good, whoever thought of it," Mrs. McAlister answered gently. "Remember that it is years since I've known what it meant to come home."
Theodora tossed aside her hair and turned to face her.
"How do you mean?" she asked curiously.
"My father and mother died when I was in college," her stepmother replied. "There were only two of us left, my little brother and I, and we never had a home, a real one, after that. I taught, and he was sent away to school."
"Where is he now?"