"He is a dear," she said to herself, "and just like John. If only the others are as cordial. Somehow I dread Edith."
She was quite as excited as were her step-daughters when she drove up the avenue, and her eyes fell for the first time upon the group on the piazza.
Cynthia walked down the path to meet her, holding Janet and Willy by either hand. Edith remained standing on the step.
"How do you do?" said Cynthia, with a cordial smile.
Mrs. Franklin looked at her. Then she put her arms around her and kissed her.
"This is Cynthia, I am sure," she whispered, tremulously, "and these are 'the children.'"
She kissed them and passed on to her husband's eldest daughter, while they greeted their father.
Edith was very tall, and her position on the step gave her the advantage of several inches in addition. She fairly towered above the new-comer.
"How do you do, Mrs. Franklin?" she said, holding out a very stiff hand and arm. She had made up her mind that she for one would not be kissed.
"And are you Edith?"