Grandmother Newbury smiled. She understood. Frances had always been
her favourite granddaughter, but she had never been blind,
clear-sighted old lady that she was, to the little leaven of
easy-going selfishness in the girl's nature. She was pleased to see
that Frances had conquered it this time.

"I'm glad it is you who have come--principally because you are
cleverer than Cecilia," she said brusquely. "Or at least you are the
better talker. And I want a clever girl and a good talker to help me
entertain a guest today. She's clever herself, and she likes young
girls. She is a particular friend of your Uncle Robert's family down
south, and that is why I have asked her to spend a few days with me.
You'll like her."

Here Grandmother Newbury led Frances into the sitting-room.

"Mrs. Kennedy, this is my granddaughter, Frances Newbury. I told you
about her and her ambitions last night. You see, Frances, we have
talked you over."

Mrs. Kennedy was a much younger woman than Grandmother Newbury. She
was certainly no more than fifty and, in spite of her grey hair,
looked almost girlish, so bright were her dark eyes, so clear-cut and
fresh her delicate face, and so smart her general appearance. Frances,
although not given to sudden likings, took one for Mrs. Kennedy. She
thought she had never seen so charming a face.

She found herself enjoying the day immensely. In fact, she forgot the
Governor's picnic and Sara Beaumont altogether. Mrs. Kennedy proved to
be a delightful companion. She had travelled extensively and was an
excellent _raconteur_. She had seen much of men and women and
crystallized her experiences into sparkling little sentences and
epigrams which made Frances feel as if she were listening to one of
the witty people in clever books. But under all her sparkling wit
there was a strongly felt undercurrent of true womanly sympathy and
kind-heartedness which won affection as speedily as her brilliance won
admiration. Frances listened and laughed and enjoyed. Once she found
time to think that she would have missed a great deal if she had not
come to Bay Shore Farm that day. Surely talking to a woman like Mrs.
Kennedy was better than looking at Sara Beaumont from a distance.

"I've been 'rewarded' in the most approved storybook style," she
thought with amusement.

In the afternoon, Grandmother Newbury packed Mrs. Kennedy and Frances
off for a walk.

"The old woman wants to have her regular nap," she told them.