sitting next to him, was as
great as could well be imagined.

As a boy, I naturally looked at the boys first; but while doing so, I
knew that a girl in a black dress, was regarding me in a kind, cousinly
way, a girl with a large, fair face, calm gray-blue eyes and a profusion
of light golden hair. Grandfather's remark, that Theodora was "a
noble-hearted child," came back to me with my first glance at her.

Two smaller girls, who frequently left their chairs, to wait on the
table, were sitting at grandmother's left hand; girls with brown eyes,
brown hair, and rosy faces, one larger than the other; these were Ellen
and Wealthy.

"They don't look much alike," said grandmother, looking at us all, over
her glasses. "One never would mistrust they were cousins."

The old gentleman contemplated us kindly. "Only their noses," said he.
"Their noses are somewhat alike."

Grandmother looked again, _through_ her glasses this time.

"So they are!" cried she. "They've all got your nose, Joseph;" and the
old lady laughed; and we all laughed a little oddly and looked at
grandfather and laughed again. I think we felt a little better
acquainted after that; we had, at least, a nose in common. But even our
laughter that evening was distrait, or seemed to me so, as if shadowed
by something sad.

As evening drew on, we all, save Halstead, gathered in the front
sitting-room without lights; for the windows were open; and there was a
hazy moon. Theodora sat at one window, looking off upon the lake; while
Ellen slowly and rather imperfectly played tunes on a melodeon, lively
tunes, I believe, but the old instrument seemed to me to be weeping and
wailing to us under a mask of pretended music. Beyond doubt I was a
little homesick and tired from my journey; and after a time grandmother
lighted a candle to show me the way up-stairs to bed. I remember feeling
disappointed when she told me that I was to sleep with Halstead. The
latter had come in and followed us up-stairs. He seemed surprised at
finding me in his room.

"Thought you was going to roost with Ad," said he. "Heard the old gent
say so. Guess Ad has been whining to the grandmarm not to have you. He
is a regular old Betty. 'Fraid you'll upset some of his precious
gimcracks."

"What are they?" I asked.

"Don't know much about them. I don't go near him, and he keeps his door
fastened. Lets Doad and Nell in once in awhile. No admittance to me.

"Hold on a bit!" he exclaimed, sudde