t
had been cut down and rehemmed, that it might last as long as possible.
There was, to be sure, one small tier of towels, handed down from
Georgiana's grandmother and carefully preserved against much using, of
which any mistress of a linen press might be proud. There were also two
pairs of fine hand-made linen sheets with borders exquisitely drawn; two
pairs of pillow cases to match, and a quite wonderful old bedspread of
knitted lace.

"I can keep washing out the best towels for her," Georgiana reflected
resignedly as she counted her resources.

In the china cupboard there was left quite a stock of rare old plates
and dishes which could be used as occasion demanded. The blue-and-white
crockery which must serve a part of the time was pretty meagre, the
supply of antique silver good as far as it went; it did not go very far.

But--"After all," said Georgiana to herself determinedly, "we can give
her good things to eat, and served as attractively as need be--why
should I mind about the rest? Father in his armchair is a benediction to
any meal, and Mr. Jefferson can talk as few guests can who sit at the
Crofton table, I'll wager. I'll not be apologetic, even in my mind, no
matter how much I feel like it. I've asked her and she's coming. She
wouldn't be coming if she wasn't in a way willing to take what she
finds. We'll have a good time out of it."

Whereupon she betook herself to the room which was to be given to her
cousin, and fell to work with a will, for this was the last thing to be
done before the arrival of the guest.

When it was in order she looked about it, not ill content. It would be
an exacting guest, surely, who could not be comfortable here--and there
are many guest-rooms of elaborate appointments where guests are not
wholly comfortable. This room was large and square and airy, with its
four windows facing east and south, and the view from the eastern ones
was far-reaching, with a glimpse of blue mountain ranges in the
distance. If the matting upon the floor had been many times turned and
refitted, its worn places were now all cunningly hidden and it was as
fresh as the newly scrubbed paint on the woodwork. There was a
luxuriously cushioned, high-backed chair--would Jeannette, by any
possibility, recognize the blue silk of those cushion covers? Georgiana
wondered. Jeannette, who never wore a frock long enough really to become
familiar with its pattern, would only know that the cushions were soft
to he