"By all means! let me go with you," Mrs. Barclay answered; and Lois opened a door and ushered her at once into the common room of the family. Here Mrs. Armadale was sitting in her rocking-chair.
"This is my grandmother," said Lois simply; and Mrs. Barclay came up.
"How do you do, ma'am?" said the old lady. "I am pleased to see you."
Mrs. Barclay took a chair by her side, made her greetings, and surveyed the room. It was very cheerful and home-looking, with its firelight, and the table comfortably spread in the middle of the floor, and various little tokens of domestic occupation.
"How pleasant this fire is!" she remarked. "Wood is so sweet!"
"It's better than the fire in the parlour," said Mrs. Armadale; "but that room has only a grate."
"I will never complain, as long as I have soft coal," returned the new guest; "but there is an uncommon charm to me in a wood fire."
"You don't get it often in New York, Lois says."
"Miss Lois has been to the great city, then?"
"Yes, she's been there. Our cousin, Mrs. Wishart, likes to have her, and Lois was there quite a spell last winter; but I expect that's the end of it. I guess she'll stay at home the rest of her life."