wide porte-cochere that sheltered
the high entrance doors. These were both flung open, a butler and two
footmen were standing impassively beside them, and a neat maid within.
Honora climbed the steps as in a dream, followed Susan through a hall
with a black-walnut, fretted staircase, and where she caught a glimpse
of two huge Chinese vases, to a porch on the other side of the house
spread with wicker chairs and tables. Out of a group of people at the
farther end of this porch arose an elderly lady, who came forward and
clasped Susan in her arms.

"And is this Honora? How do you do, my dear? I had the pleasure of
knowing you when you were much younger."

Honora, too, was gathered to that ample bosom. Released, she beheld a
lady in a mauve satin gown, at the throat of which a cameo brooch
was fastened. Mrs. Holt's face left no room for conjecture as to the
character of its possessor. Her hair, of a silvering blend, parted in
the middle, fitted tightly to her head. She wore earrings. In short, her
appearance was in every way suggestive of momentum, of a force which the
wise would respect.

"Where are you, Joshua?" she said. "This is the baby we brought from
Nice. Come and tell me whether you would recognize her."

Mr. Holt released his--daughter. He had a mild blue eye, white
mutton-chop whiskers, and very thin hands, and his tweed suit was
decidedly the worse for wear.

"I can't say that I should, Elvira," he replied; "although it is not
hard to believe that such a beautiful baby should, prove to be such
a--er--good-looking young woman."

"I've always felt very grateful to you for bringing me back," said
Honora.

"Tut, tut, child," said Mrs. Holt; "there was no one else to do it. And
be careful how you pay young women compliments, Joshua. They grow
vain enough. By the way, my dear, what ever became of your maternal
grandfather, old Mr. Allison--wasn't that his name?"

"He died when I was very young," replied Honora.

"He was too fond of the good things of this life," said Mrs. Holt.

"My dear Elvira!" her husband protested.

"I can't help it, he was," retorted that lady. "I am a judge of human
nature, and I was relieved, I can tell you, my dear" (to Honora), "when
I saw your uncle and aunt on the wharf that morning. I knew that I had
confided you to good hands."

"They have done everything for me, Mrs. Holt," said Honora.

The good lady patted her approvingly on the shoulder.

"I'm sure of it, my dear,"