The heiress of McGregor

by Lucy Ellen Guernsey

"A missionary!" repeated Marion. "I wonder where! I wonder if Aunt Christian knows her."

"Very likely. All that kind of people seem to know one another more or less," said Mrs. Gertrude. "Well, Mrs. Andrews is a widow, as I said. You will know that the first minute you see her, for she never appears without being dressed in character. She is very handsome, very demure, and I suppose an excellent teacher: every one says so. I know she has all those boys under her thumbs from the oldest to the youngest in a way that I shouldn't like if I were their mother. However, Father Van Alstine sustains her through thick and thin, and perhaps it is just as well that somebody should govern them."

"Does mother have good servants?" asked Marion, when she had a chance to speak. "Or don't she keep any?"

"Oh, yes, she has two excellent girls, and old James is always pottering about helping here and there. Between ourselves, though I don't want to hurt your feelings, mother is no great things as a housekeeper. She doesn't seem to notice things that would drive me half crazy. Now, though I am sick a great deal and have nobody that compares with Maggy, you don't see many cobwebs hanging about my house. But I hope you will be a great help to her, only you must not be surprised if you don't find things as you are used to seeing them. The boys have the run of the house, and such places as they make of their rooms and the sitting-room with bringing in all sorts of rubbish! To be sure Mrs. Andrews puts them up to it, and mother is nobody against her. Well, here is my station, so good-bye my dear. I see my husband is waiting for me. We shall be over to see you in a few days."

Marion had just time to catch a bow from a tall man in linen clothes before the train whirled on. They had half an hour's ride to the next station, and in that time Marion had rearranged most all her ideas in relation to the family she was going to see. Mr. Van Alstine was a hard, severe man ruling his family with a rod of iron, but governed by an artful, scheming widow. Amity was an interfering overbearing woman, always meddling and making trouble. The boys were rude, lawless, untaught savages, and her poor, gentle, weak-minded, mother was preyed upon and tyrannized over by all in turn. It did not trouble Marion that the different parts of this picture were as much out of drawing as if her father had painted it. She would be the good angel who should bring peace, and cast oil on the troubled waters. She would sustain and strengthen her poor mother, and supply all her deficiencies by her own ready tact; she would soften and conciliate the hard, severe father; in short, all was to be made right and sweet and good, and she, Marion McGregor, would do it all.

"We are coming to the station, miss," said the conductor presently. "You had better be all ready, for we only stop a minute, and it is an awkward place to get off. I hope your brother or some one will be on hand; the Falls isn't just the place where I should like to leave a young lady alone. Oh, yes, there he is; take care and step out on the right side."

It was only a minute or two before the train swept on and left Marion standing on a narrow platform, in company with her trunks and a tall, dark young gentleman in a gray business-suit, who had helped her out.

"You are late; I began to think something had happened," said the tall young man, not at all in the manner of a cub or a savage; "but I must introduce myself. I am Harry Van Alstine, and you, I suppose, are Marion. This is my brother Frank Van Alstine, and—hallo, old fellow, don't be so demonstrative." The last words were addressed to an immense dog of the mastiff persuasion, who, evidently thinking himself neglected, pushed his way into the group and thrust his dark brindled muzzle into Marion's hand.

"He wants to be introduced as well as the rest," said Frank. "This, sister Marion, is Dog Van Alstine, commonly known as Trump, and one of the most respectable and influential members of the family. And now, Harry, I think we had better be going, for we shall hardly be home before dark as it is."

"True," said Harry. "Marion, which trunk would you rather have first? We can take one on the carriage, and the other will come with the team."