getting very fond of them," pursued Mrs.
Corey patronisingly. "My son has told me of the lovely outlook you're
to have over the water. He thinks you have such a beautiful house. I
believe he had the pleasure of meeting you all there when he first came
home."

"Yes, I think he was our first visitor."

"He is a great admirer of your house," said Mrs. Corey, keeping her
eyes very sharply, however politely, on Penelope's face, as if to
surprise there the secret of any other great admiration of her son's
that might helplessly show itself.

"Yes," said the girl, "he's been there several times with father; and
he wouldn't be allowed to overlook any of its good points."

Her mother took a little more courage from her daughter's tranquillity.

"The girls make such fun of their father's excitement about his
building, and the way he talks it into everybody."

"Oh, indeed!" said Mrs. Corey, with civil misunderstanding and inquiry.

Penelope flushed, and her mother went on: "I tell him he's more of a
child about it than any of them."

"Young people are very philosophical nowadays," remarked Mrs. Corey.

"Yes, indeed," said Mrs. Lapham. "I tell them they've always had
everything, so that nothing's a surprise to them. It was different
with us in our young days."

"Yes," said Mrs. Corey, without assenting.

"I mean the Colonel and myself," explained Mrs. Lapham.

"Oh yes--yes!" said Mrs. Corey.

"I'm sure," the former went on, rather helplessly, "we had to work hard
enough for everything we got. And so we appreciated it."

"So many things were not done for young people then," said Mrs. Corey,
not recognising the early-hardships standpoint of Mrs. Lapham. "But I
don't know that they are always the better for it now," she added
vaguely, but with the satisfaction we all feel in uttering a just
commonplace.

"It's rather hard living up to blessings that you've always had," said
Penelope.

"Yes," replied Mrs. Corey distractedly, and coming back to her slowly
from the virtuous distance to which she had absented herself. She
looked at the girl searchingly again, as if to determine whether this
were a touch of the drolling her son had spoken of. But she only
added: "You will enjoy the sunsets on the Back Bay so much." "Well, not
unless they're new ones," said Penelope. "I don't believe I could
promise to enjoy any sunsets that I was used to, a great deal."

Mrs. Corey looked at her with misgiving, hardening into