"We have ventured to bring our friend, Miss Marriott, Gertrude; Garth wanted to show her Karlsmere. She knows what an invalid you are, and will not make any demands on your strength. Now you must go and establish yourself comfortably on your couch, while Queenie and I get rid of some of our dust, and Harry puts dear little Nan in her crib."
"I tell Harry that he is killing that child, by dragging her about in the sun," rejoined Mrs. Chester, with a shrug of her shoulders. "He will not listen to me. One would think he had a dozen children, and could afford to lose one or two; but there, it is no use my talking to him."
"Why, Gertie, I thought you said that your head was bad, and that Nan was worrying you," observed her husband in a deprecating voice.
"Well, but she might be playing up-stairs with her Noah's Ark. Of course I am only a mother, and don't understand children; but look how flushed her face is, Langley."
"She is only rosy with sleep," interrupted Garth, stooping to kiss her. "What a pretty little face it is! She is more like you than Harry," continued the artful young diplomatist; "she has got your eyes and eyelashes, Mrs. Chester."
"Yes; she is very like you, Gertie," replied her husband eagerly. "Garth is right; I never saw it so plainly before."
"Other people have always seen it," was the somewhat pointed answer.
"Oh, Langley, I don't like her at all," exclaimed Queenie, when she found herself alone with Langley in the large pleasant room overlooking the crofts. "I always thought Cathy was prejudiced; but I think her so—so disagreeable."
"She has been waiting for us, you see, and that always makes her nervous; one must make allowance for an invalid's humor."
"Some invalids are quite pleasant," returned Queenie stoutly. "There is a fretful chord in her voice that jars somehow. She is very slim and elegant, and I suppose some people would call her handsome; but I don't like her gloomy dark eyes, and her mouth goes down at the corners. I always distrust people's tempers when I see that."