'm
very sure he is not." And she nodded her head emphatically.

"Ah, my dear Miss Trinkett, you never can tell. Sometimes a man's family
is the last to hear those things. And it will be a good match, too. She
comes of an old family, and she has a great deal of money. The Gordons
are all rich."

"Do you suppose he'd care for that?" exclaimed her visitor, wrathfully.

"Well, well, one never knows! And think how much better it would be for
the children. Edith is too young to have so much care, and they say
Cynthia runs wild most of the time, just like a boy. Indeed, I call it a
very good thing. Though I must say she is a pretty brave woman to take
on herself the care of that family."

Here "Miss Betsey" suddenly darted for the door. It could be endured no
longer. Mrs. Parker bade her farewell, and then went back to tell her
daughters that Miss Trinkett was sadly changed. Though she was still so
young in appearance, she was evidently very much broken.

For some time Jack could obtain no reply to his questions, but at last
Cynthia's resolution broke down, and she burst into tears. They had
turned into a shady lane instead of going directly home, and there was
no danger of meeting any one.

"Jack, Jack!" she moaned, "I'll have to tell you. Mrs. Parker says papa
is going to be married again! What shall we do! What shall we do!"

For answer Jack indulged in a prolonged whistle.

"Isn't it the most dreadful thing you ever heard of? Jack, how shall we
ever endure it?"

"Well, it mayn't be as bad as you think. If she's nice--"

"Oh, Jack, she won't be! Stepmothers are never nice. I never in my life
heard of one that was. She'll be horrid to us all."

"Oh, I say, that's nonsense. If you were to marry a widower with a lot
of children you'd be nice to them."

"Jack, the very idea! _I_ marry a widower with a lot of children! I'd
like to see myself doing such a thing!"

Cynthia almost forgot her present troubles in her wrath at her brother's
suggestion.

"Well, after all it may not be true. Because Mrs. Parker says so,
doesn't prove it. Where did she hear it?"

"From some of her Albany relations, I suppose. The--the lady lives
there. But, oh, Jack! Do you think there is any chance of its not being
true?" cried Cynthia, catching at the least straw of hope.

"Why, of course! Father hasn't told us, and you can't believe all the
gossip you hear," said Jack, loftily.

"Perhaps it isn't true, after all," exclaimed Cynthi