eady. Aggie sat in the
drawing-room waiting for her sister. Even as she waited she dared not be
idle. There was an old coat of Arthur's that she had been lining, taking
advantage of a change to milder weather; it was warmer than the one he was
wearing, and she was afraid to let it go another day lest the wind should
turn round to the northeast again. In such anxieties Aggie moved and had
her being. For the rest, she had given the little maid a lesson in the
proper way of showing Mrs. John Hurst into the room when she arrived.

Mrs. John Hurst arrived a little late. She came in unannounced (for her
appearance had taken the little maid's breath away); she came with a
certain rustle and sweep which was much more important than anything Susie
had ever done in the old days when Aggie was the pretty one.

Aggie was moved at seeing her. She uttered a cry of affection and delight,
and gave herself to Susie's open arms.

"Darling!" said Mrs. John Hurst. "Let me have a good look at you."

She kissed her violently, held her at arm's-length for a moment, and then
kissed her again, very gently. In that moment Aggie had looked at Susie,
and Susie at Aggie, each trying to master the meaning of the other's face.
It was Susie who understood first. Prosperity was very becoming to Susie.
She was the pretty one now, and she knew it. Marriage had done for her
what maidenhood had done for her sister, and Susie was the image of what
Aggie used to be.

But Aggie herself! Nothing was left now of the diminutive distinction that
had caused her to be once adored in Queningford. Susie was young at
two-and-thirty, and Aggie, not three years older, was middle-aged. Not
that there were many wrinkles on Aggie's face. Only a deep, crescent line
on each side of a mouth that looked as if it had been strained tight with
many tortures. It was as if Nature had conceived a grudge against Aggie,
and strove, through maternity, to stamp out her features as an individual.

"Oh yes," said Aggie, to break the intolerable tension of that look, "it's
one of your old ones, turned and trimmed to make it look different."

"Poor darling," said Susie; but what she thought was that it did look
different.

Luckily Mrs. John Hurst was full of the Horse-Show. She could talk of
nothing else. It was the Horse-Show that had made her late. She had waited
for the judging. John would look in as soon as he could get away. Gownboy
had carried off the gold cup and the gold meda