"Your grandmother!" exclaimed Lady Canning, staring in surprise at the vivacious and essentially modern woman before her. Mrs. Bunker, on this occasion, wore a very becoming, extremely youthful hat.
"It's difficult to realize, isn't it?" remarked Mrs. Bunker, laughing and flattered at Lady Canning's astonishment. "We consider it criminal in the States for a woman not to look at least ten years younger than she really is. I've always been regarded as a remarkable woman for my age."
"The costume is deceiving," answered Lady Canning, regarding Mrs. Bunker's fashionable attire with disapproving eyes. "At first glance I thought you were a young woman, Mrs.—er—"
"Bunker," smiling graciously.
"Mrs. Bunker. However, on close inspection, I see you are not."
Having thus summarily thrown cold water on Mrs. Bunker's enthusiasm, Lady Canning proceeded on Thurston's arm to her usual chair by the fire, Lord Stafford, entering shortly after, exchanged laughing greetings with his fellow-travellers.
"Lady Canning, I wouldn't harbor any old bachelors," remarked Mrs. Bunker, her irrepressible spirits rising to the surface again. "If he were my brother, I'd just turn him out, and he would be obliged to marry for a shelter."
"Mrs. Bunker," said Lord Stafford, "I once heard a Yankee farmer say, 'An old hoss that's been jogging along a good many years alone, is always good to jog along a few years more, but if you yoke him with another hoss, he's winded at once, and goes to the wall.' Ha, ha, ha, ha!"
Indiana, who was sitting at the tea-table, strained her eyes and ears, trying to hear everything that was said. At one time she became so absorbed, making anxious and involuntary comparisons between her relatives and Thurston's, that she forgot to pour out the tea, while Jennings stood anxiously watching her, waiting for the cups.
"And how do you find your daughter looking, Mrs. Stillwater?" inquired Lady Canning.