two or three were sitting; another group occupied a window; while
at the piano were two more, an old and a young lady; the latter of whom
was seated upon the stool, and with her foot upon the soft pedal, was
alternately striking a few sweet, musical chords, and talking to her
companion, who seemed to be a little deaf.

"This is Miss Johnson," and the waiter bowed toward the musician, who,
quick as thought, seized upon the truth, and springing to Mrs.
Worthington's side, exclaimed:

"It's Mrs. Worthington, I know, my mother's early friend. Why did you
sit here so long without speaking to me? I am Alice Johnson," and
overcome with the emotions awakened by the sight of her mother's early
friend, Alice hid her face with childlike confidence in Mrs.
Worthington's bosom, and sobbed for a moment bitterly.

Then growing calm, she lifted up her head and smiling through her tears
said:

"Forgive me for this introduction. It is not often I give way, for I
know and am sure it was best and right that mother should die. I am not
rebellious now, but the sight of you brought it back so vividly. You'll
be my mother, won't you?" and kissing the fat white hands involuntarily
smoothing her bright hair, the impulsive girl nestled closer to Mrs.
Worthington, looking up into her face with a confiding affection which
won a place for her at once in Mrs. Worthington's heart.

"My darling," she said, winding her arm around her waist, "as far as I
can I will be to you a mother, and 'Lina shall be your sister. This is
'Lina, dear," and she turned to 'Lina, who, piqued at having been so
long unnoticed, was frowning gloomily.

But 'Lina never met a glance purer or more free from guile than that
which Alice gave her, and it disarmed her at once of all jealousy,
making her return the orphan's kisses with as much apparent cordiality
as they had been given. During this scene the woman of the snowy hair
and jet black eyes had stood silently by, regarding 'Lina with that same
curious expression which had so annoyed the young lady, and from which
she now intuitively shrank.

"My nurse, Densie Densmore," Alice said at last, adding in an aside:
"She is somewhat deaf and may not hear distinctly, unless you speak
quite loud. Poor old Densie," she continued, as the latter bowed to her
new acquaintances, and then seated herself at a respectful distance.
"She has been in our family for a long time." Then changing the
conversation, Alice made many inquirie