"That's not so very long ago," the old maid answered. "I don't think I've known you more than five or ten years, have I? And five or ten years are nothing to me now. I don't feel any older than I did half a century ago; but as for my looks—well, the least said about them is soonest mended. I never was a good-looker, you know."
"How can you say so?" responded the hostess, absently noting a group of new-comers gathering in the door-way. "Mildred, you know Miss Marlenspuyk?"
"Oh yes, indeed I do," the girl said, heartily, shaking hands with the vivacious old maid.
The young woman with the touch of gold in her light hair was still standing by Mildred's side. Noting this, and seeing the group of new-comers breaking from the door-way and coming towards her, the hostess spoke hastily again.
"Do you know Miss Peters, Miss Marlenspuyk?" she asked. "Well, at all events, Miss Peters ought to know you."
Then she had just time to greet the group of new-comers and to lower her voice again, and to tell them it was so good of them to come on such a nasty day.
The daughter was left talking to Miss Marlenspuyk and Miss Peters, but within a minute her mother called her—"Mildred, you know Mrs. Hitchcock?"
As the group of new-comers pressed forward the old maid with the bright blue eyes, and the young woman with the pleasantly plump figure, fell back a little.
"I've heard so much of you, Miss Marlenspuyk, from my grandfather," began the younger woman.
"Your grandfather!" echoed the elder lady. "Then your father must be a son of Bishop Peters?"