oa!
before a very prosperous-looking house. It had been one of the
aboriginal cottages of the vicinity, small and white, with a roof
extending on one side over a piazza, and a tiny "L" jutting out in the
rear, on the right hand. Now the cottage was transformed by dormer
windows, a bay window on the piazzaless side, a carved railing down the
front steps, and a modern hard-wood door.

"Is this John Dent's house?" asked Rebecca.

The boy was as sparing of speech as a philosopher. His only response
was in flinging the reins over the horse's back, stretching out one
foot to the shaft, and leaping out of the wagon, then going around to
the rear for the trunk. Rebecca got out and went toward the house.
Its white paint had a new gloss; its blinds were an immaculate apple
green; the lawn was trimmed as smooth as velvet, and it was dotted with
scrupulous groups of hydrangeas and cannas.

"I always understood that John Dent was well-to-do," Rebecca reflected
comfortably. "I guess Agnes will have considerable. I've got enough,
but it will come in handy for her schooling. She can have advantages."

The boy dragged the trunk up the fine gravel-walk, but before he
reached the steps leading up to the piazza, for the house stood on a
terrace, the front door opened and a fair, frizzled head of a very
large and handsome woman appeared. She held up her black silk skirt,
disclosing voluminous ruffles of starched embroidery, and waited for
Rebecca. She smiled placidly, her pink, double-chinned face widened
and dimpled, but her blue eyes were wary and calculating. She extended
her hand as Rebecca climbed the steps.

"This is Miss Flint, I suppose," said she.

"Yes, ma'am," replied Rebecca, noticing with bewilderment a curious
expression compounded of fear and defiance on the other's face.

"Your letter only arrived this morning," said Mrs. Dent, in a steady
voice. Her great face was a uniform pink, and her china-blue eyes were
at once aggressive and veiled with secrecy.

"Yes, I hardly thought you'd get my letter," replied Rebecca. "I felt
as if I could not wait to hear from you before I came. I supposed you
would be so situated that you could have me a little while without
putting you out too much, from what John used to write me about his
circumstances, and when I had that money so unexpected I felt as if I
must come for Agnes. I suppose you will be willing to give her up.
You know she's my own blood, and of course she