rove over from
Langdale, ten miles away, to spend two days. Grandmother does not belong
to us exclusively--she is Grandmother to a large circle of people, all
of whom are glad to see her whenever they have the opportunity. Rhodora
is a new granddaughter of the old lady--by which I mean to say that
Rhodora never saw Grandmother till a fortnight ago, when the girl
arrived to pay her a visit.

"I wanted to see you people so much," explained Rhodora, coming breezily
upon the porch a step or two in advance of the old lady, "that I thought
I'd drive over. Grandmother wanted to come too, so I brought her."

Grandmother's dark eyebrows below her white curls went up a trifle. It
was quite evident that she thought she had brought Rhodora, inasmuch as
the carriage, the horses, and the old family coachman were all her own.
But she did not correct the girl. She is a tiny little lady, with a
gentle, somewhat hesitating manner, but her black eyes are very bright,
and she sees things with almost as keen a vision as Lad himself.

The Gay Lady was charmed with Grandmother. She put the frail visitor
into the easiest chair on the porch, untied her bonnet-strings, smoothed
her soft, white curls, and brought a footstool for her little feet. Then
she sat by her, listening and talking--doing much more listening than
talking--leaving Rhodora to me.

"I'm sorry our men are away to-day," I said to Rhodora, "and Lad is with
them. They went early this morning to climb Bluebeard Mountain, and
won't be back till night. It is rather quiet here without them."

"Are they young and jolly?" inquired Rhodora.

"They are extremely jolly. As for being young, that depends upon one's
point of view," said I. "They are between twenty-five and thirty-five, I
believe."

"Pretty wide margin," laughed Rhodora. "And how old is Lad?"

"Fifteen."

"I've had the bad luck to be stuck off with old people all the while
lately," remarked Rhodora. She looked at me as she spoke. I wondered if
she considered me "old people." Then she glanced at the Gay Lady.

"How old is she?" she inquired.

"I have never asked her."

"Looks like a girl, but I guess she isn't. A real girl would never
settle down like that to talk to an old lady like Grandmother," she
observed sagely.

I opened my lips--and closed them. I had known Miss Rhodora only about
ten minutes, and one does not make caustic speeches to one's guests--if
one can help it. But one does take observations upon