"No, child; that is your mother's portrait."
"I almost knew it."
"It was taken when she was only sixteen years old. She was a gay, wild girl then. I suppose she is sadly changed now."
The thought completely overcame Mrs. Gordon, and throwing herself upon a sofa, she wept like a child. She thought of her sister suffering from poverty and want, while she had been rolling in opulence and plenty. Grace tried to comfort her, but it was some time before she was in a condition to enter the carriage which was waiting at the door.
"What an adventure, mother!" exclaimed Grace, as she seated herself by the side of Katy; and it was evident she had a vein of the romantic in her composition.
"Do not talk to me, Grace. My heart is too full for words."
"But I may talk to Katy—may I not?"
"Yes."
"Well, cousin Katy," laughed Grace; "I shall call you cousin, though you are not really my cousin."
"Not your cousin?" said Katy, a shade of disappointment crossing her animated features.