"Did you want me?" asked Derrice.
"Yes," stammered her mother-in-law, recovering her breath, and she waved her hand toward the little dowdy widow in the black bonnet and bead cape, and the young woman in the painful green dress, who was her daughter, and the bride of a carpenter who lived around the corner.
"You have come to see me,—how kind in you," said Derrice, in her infantine manner, and with so much sweetness that the two visitors, who were not of her world and never would be, immediately fell into a profound conviction that they were her friends for life.
The little widow, who was a kind-hearted person, but of limited ideas and education, felt a strange flutter of interest as she regarded the beautiful, gracious girl, and, losing her first fear of the eyeglass, immediately expressed a hope that Derrice felt pretty smart after her journey.
"Oh, yes, thank you, I am used to travelling."
The carpenter's wife, who had, until Derrice's entrance into the room, been troubled with a nervous choking in her throat, now lost all embarrassment, and interrupted a remark of her mother by an eager inquiry as to whether Derrice would "appear out" next Sunday.
Derrice hesitated, and looked at her mother-in-law.
"She means," said Mrs. Prymmer, solemnly, "will you attend divine service? It is the custom for brides."
"Yes," chimed in the widow, "then they stay home for three days and receive visits. Will you do so, dear?"
"Well, I don't know," laughed Derrice. "Have you any saints' bones or other curiosities in your church?"