The most common cause of misunderstanding between the mother and daughter was Nannie’s trick of regarding every remark about other people, or about human nature in general, as a covert slur on herself. Each mention of an ignoble quality brought forth, “That’s just like me,” from Nannie, while any reference to an admirable characteristic was greeted with, “I haven’t got that.” “I wish Mamma wasn’t that way,” Lucy confided to her father one night, after a number of irritating experiences with this mania. “It makes things so unpleasant.” The evening had ended in a quarrel and Nannie had gone upstairs to cry. “Your mother has every defect of character that can be mentioned,” Arthur replied, “so I suppose she shouldn’t be blamed for being sensitive.” Lucy was surprised by the bitter feeling in the tone of her usually silent and impassive father, and remembered his remark. Nannie spent a great deal of time in beauty culture. She tried all sorts of exercises and devices for preserving her figure and warding off wrinkles. Every recipe she saw in the women’s columns of the newspapers she tested carefully. Each day a large part of the morning was devoted to a faithful observance of these rites, and she never neglected to take her “beauty nap” during the afternoon. Often she would gaze with envy at Lucy’s charming color and clear eyes. “I don’t want to grow old and ugly, Lucy,” she would say. “I’m so afraid of growing old! Do you think I am beginning to show my age?” “Why, Mamma, what nonsense! You look like a girl,” Lucy would reply, for Nannie’s efforts were not without a certain kind of effect. “Do you really think so?” she would ask happily. “Don’t tell anybody I use rouge, will you?” “I won’t,” Lucy always promised. After taking up her residence with “Cousin Minnie Sheldon” Mrs. Lockhart seldom visited her daughter. One summer afternoon, however, a carriage stopped before the Merwents’ gate. “Why, I believe that’s Mamma coming here,” Nannie whispered excitedly, as the carriage door was opened. “There’s a young man with her!” she added. “Who in the world can it be? You stay here to receive them, Lucy. Tell Mamma I’ll be down in a minute,” and she ran upstairs to change her dress and improve her complexion. “Well, well, is this my grandbaby?” Mrs. Lockhart ejaculated as she entered the hall and offered her cheek for Lucy to kiss. “You’re a young lady already,” and she surveyed Lucy’s reddened cheeks and well developed figure with approval. The young man remained in the background, ill at ease. “This is Kingsley Dodd,” Mrs. Lockhart announced, waving him forward. “He saw you at your father’s office and has given me no peace till I brought him over to call on you.” Young Dodd, red to his hair, bowed and shook hands awkwardly. “Where’s Nannie?” Mrs. Lockhart asked, entering the parlor and seating herself. “Sit down, Kingsley,” she commanded her follower. “Mamma will be down in a minute,” explained Lucy.