"Yes," agreed Mrs. Wyndham; "doubtless she has all that your father and I would give you, Violet, if we could. But you are a poor man's daughter, and she—well, she is Prosperity's child."
There was a touch of bitterness mingled with reproach in Mrs. Wyndham's tone, and Violet had the grace to feel ashamed of the discontent she had shown. Ruth kept silence, for her heart was full of indignation against her sister, and she feared that if she spoke she might say something she would repent. Presently Violet said—
"There is one thing I do not envy her, and that is her name."
"What is it?" asked Ruth; "I did not hear father say."
"She is called 'Ann.'"
"Ann," Ruth repeated; "Ann Reed. It is not a pretty name, I suppose, but I do not know that I dislike it."
"It is an old-fashioned name, of course," said Mrs. Wyndham; "Dr. Reed told your father that he had called his daughter after his mother. I do hope nothing will happen to prevent Dr. Reed's coming to-morrow now we have prepared for him."
By the following day the fog had quite gone, and towards noon the sun cleared. When the Wyndham children returned from church, after morning service, they found their father's expected visitor had just arrived, and they were immediately presented to him. He was a tall, broad-shouldered man, with a grave, clean-shaven face, and a pair of steel-grey eyes which looked both keen and kindly. The young folks took to him at once, and Ruth's heart warmed towards him, when, after her father had introduced him to her, and they had shaken hands, he said:—
"Why, you must be about the age of my little maid at home! One of these days I must persuade your mother to let you pay us a visit; I am sure you would be friends with Ann. Do you know that your father and I were chums before we were as old as you?"
"Yes," Ruth answered; "he has told us so."