CHAPTER I. MRS. WENTWORTH WARD VISITS GLEN ARDEN. IT was raining heavily, and a strong wind from the northeast blew the drops with relentless force against the dining-room windows. The few leaves that remained upon the trees were fast dropping, falling in sodden unloveliness upon the drenched lawn. It was a day for all those who could do so to remain within doors. The four girls were in the dining-room. It was the most cheerful place in which to sit on a rainy day, and the fire that burned on the hearth lighted up the room, and gave it an aspect of cosiness that was very pleasant. Honor Starr, the eldest of the family, was lying upon the sofa, which had been drawn forward from its usual corner and placed within reach of the warmth. She had a book in her hand, although she was not reading at the moment. She also held a bottle of camphor, which she applied frequently to her nose. Sophy, the youngest sister, who was only eight years old, sat at a table near the side window, brandishing first a large pair of shears, and then a paint or a paste brush, while sheets of tissue paper, of every hue known to a maker of paper dolls, lay about her on the floor, and were mingled with the contents of an overflowing waste-basket which had just been upset. Katherine, who was eighteen, and who came next in age to Honor, had been showing to her sisters a very handsome silver-backed handglass, which she had bought the day before in Boston, and apparently there had been some argument on the subject, for Katherine’s pretty face wore a perturbed expression, and she glanced somewhat resentfully at Honor, who was then devoting herself to the camphor bottle with conspicuous attention. Victoria, the third sister, a girl of fifteen, knelt before the fire, to which she energetically applied the poker. Victoria was apt to use energy in the smallest affairs of life. The girls were all dressed in black, which perhaps added to the effect of dreariness caused by the weather. “Surely, she won’t come to-day!” said Katherine, laying down the mirror and going to the window, whence a view of the drive was to be had. The house was set low, and was at some distance from the main road. The avenue leading to the house wound in and out among the trees, but there was one portion of it which was open, and could be seen easily from the windows. This open space Katherine was watching with scrupulous care. “A dog wouldn’t put his nose out of doors to-day, if he could help it,” she continued. “Aunt Sophia is no dog,” observed Victoria, coming behind her and peering over her shoulder; “she is a Woman, spelt with a capital W; therefore wind and weather will never keep her at home. I heard the whistle of the train, ages ago. And—yes, there she is!” “Oh!” exclaimed the four sisters together, as a depot carriage came rapidly into sight and was then lost again among the trees.