tangible; and there floated now and then past
Lois's mental vision an image of a handsome head, crowned with graceful
locks of luxuriant light brown hair, and a face of winning
pleasantness, and eyes that looked eagerly into her eyes. It came up
now before her, this vision, with a certain sense of something lost.
Not that she had ever reckoned that image as a thing won; as belonging,
or ever possibly to belong, to herself; for Lois never had such a
thought for a moment. All the same came now the vision before her with
the commentary,--'You never can have it. That acquain'tance, and that
friendship, and that intercourse, is a thing of the past; and whatever
for another it might have led to, it could lead to nothing for you.' It
was not a defined thought; rather a floating semi-consciousness; and
Lois presently rose up and went from thought to action.

CHAPTER IX.

THE FAMILY.

The spring day was fading into the dusk of evening, when feet and
voices heard outside announced that the travellers were returning. And
in they came, bringing a breeze of business and a number of tied-up
parcels with them into the quiet house.

"The table ready! how good! and the fire. O, it's Lois! Lois is
here!"--and then there were warm embraces, and then the old grandmother
was kissed. There were two girls, one tall, the other very tall.

"I'm tired to death!" said the former of these. "Charity would do no
end of work; you know she is a steam-engine, and she had the steam up
to-day, I can tell you. There's no saying how good supper will be; for
our lunch wasn't much, and not good at that; and there's something good
here, I can tell by my nose. Did you take care of the milk, Lois? you
couldn't know where to set it."

"There is no bread, Lois. I suppose you found out?" the other sister
said.

"O, she's made biscuits!" said Madge. "Aren't you a brick, though,
Lois! I was expecting we'd have everything to do; and it's all done.
Ain't that what you call comfortable? Is the tea made? I'll be ready in
a minute."

But that was easier said than done.

"Lois! what sort of hats are they wearing in New York?"

"Lois, are mantillas fashionable? The woman in New Haven, the milliner,
said everybody was going to wear them. She wanted to make me get one."

"We can make a mantilla as well as she can," Lois answered.

"If we had the pattern! But is everybody wearing them in New York?"

"I think it must be early for mantillas."

"O,