"Dear me, Marian! I begin to notice your age more now. You shouldn't fly into such rages; they wear on one fearfully; and especially for a stranger too, and against your own people—how can you?"
Mrs. Chatterton drew out a vinaigrette, then a fan from a silken bag, with clasps that she was always glad to reflect were heirlooms. "It's trying, I must confess," she declared, alternately applying the invigorating salts and waving the combination of gauze and sandalwood, "to come home to such a reception. But," and a heavy sigh, "I must bear it."
"You ought to see father," cried Mrs. Whitney, rising. "I must go at once and tell him of your arrival."
"Oh! I don't know that I care about seeing Cousin Horatio yet," said Mrs. Chatterton carelessly. "He will probably fall into one of his rages, and my nerves have been upset quite enough by you. I think I'll go directly to my apartments." She rose also.
"Father must at once be informed of your arrival," repeated Marian quietly. "I'll send him in to see you."
"And I shall go to my apartments," declared Mrs. Chatterton determinedly.
"Hoity-toity!" exclaimed Mr. King's voice, and in he came, with
Phronsie, fresh from the kitchen, clinging to his hand.
II
COUSIN EUNICE CHATTERTON
Phronsie dropped one small hand by her side, and stood quite still regarding the visitor.