Agnes was mistaken in all these particulars. Letty did not invite Mrs. De Witt, feeling, with her usual tact, that, as a new member of the Club, it did not become her to take liberties; and Mrs. De Witt was not in the least offended. On the contrary, she gave Letty a great deal of valuable help in preparing the simple entertainment permitted by the laws of the Club, and also insisted on lending her precious old china and silver spoons, which were greatly admired by those who understood their value.
The beginning of the next year brought with it two important events,—the birth of a little girl to Letty, and the death of Mrs. Train.
The new-comer, whom they called "Alice Gertrude," was a healthy, good-natured creature, wonderfully bright and full of play, and reigned like a queen over her grave father, whose admiration of her was almost boundless.
But, though Letty loved her little daughter as only mothers can love, there was a still place in her heart of hearts which the new-comer never entered,—a secret shrine reserved for the gentle, fair-haired angel who was kept safely waiting for her in another world.
Mrs. Train died—very suddenly, it was said—shortly after Letty's recovery from her confinement, and she went at once to call upon her cousin. Agnes received her with great cordiality,—with much more than ordinary kindness. It was perhaps no more than natural that her heart should be softened by such an event, and Letty rejoiced that it was so; but she could not help being surprised at the change in Mrs. Van Horn, who was busy in ordering Agnes's mourning. She had always treated Letty as a being of an inferior order; but now she fawned and coaxed and deferred to "dear Mrs. Caswell's judgment."
Letty wondered what had come over them both. Agnes was chiefly concerned, as usual, for herself. She did not see how she was to live without her mother to take care of Madge and attend to the housekeeping. Her health had lately become delicate, and she found the cares of her household quite too much for her. She did, indeed, look ill, and she had a slight—very slight—hacking cough, which startled Letty when she heard it.
"How long have you had that cough?" she asked.
"Why, a good while, off and on. It does not seem to be exactly a cold. I suppose it comes from some irritation of the throat."
"You ought to attend to it," said Letty. "Such a little dry cough is often harder to cure than one which sounds much worse."
"Oh, it is nothing," said Agnes, lightly. "I should not mind it at all, if it did not seem to reduce my strength."