CHAPTER I.
“I hope no one will come in this morning,” said Alice Livingston to her cousin, Emma Percival. “I am tired after last night’s dancing, are not you Emma?”
“Yes,” replied her cousin, yawning, “and sleepy too.”
“I love a long, quiet morning now and then,” continued Alice; “and it looks so like rain that I think we are pretty safe to-day.”
“Don’t think it, my dear,” replied Emma. “This is just the kind of weather that people you don’t want to see are sure to call. I hate these cloudy mornings for that reason. You can’t say you are out such a day as this, and yet it don’t rain positively, so that others are obliged to stay at home, whether they will or no. Now there’s Mrs. Gardiner regularly chooses these days for her inflictions. I’ve no doubt, by the way, she will be here this very morning, for I met her yesterday, and she stopped to say she had not seen any of us for a long time, and all that. Beside she is sure to call in disagreeable weather.”
“What a strange fancy,” said Alice.
“Oh, she’s one of those restless gossips who cannot stay at home a day for her life,” replied Emma. “And then, beside, she’s a bore, and loves to pin you for half the morning; and, moreover, she’s only sure of getting in when you cannot possibly say you are out. Depend upon it she’ll be here this morning—I am sure she will. ‘By the pricking of my thumbs, I feel that something evil this way comes.’ ”
“I hope your mesmeric thumbs are mistaken this once,” said Alice, laughing.
“I’ve no doubt but that’s her ring now,” replied Emma; and, sure enough, as the door opened, Mrs. Gardiner entered.
“Ah! Mrs. Gardiner,” said Emma, going forward in the most gracious, pleasant manner, “I thought I knew your ring. We were just speaking of you, and I told Alice that I was sure it was you.”