The dining-room was furnished with small tables each accommodating eight persons. Our four young friends found seats together. The other four places at their table were occupied by two couples--a tall, gaunt, sour-visaged elderly man in green spectacles, and his meek little wife, and a small, thin, invalid old gentleman, who wore a look of patient resignation, and his wife, taller than himself by half a head. A fine head of beautiful grey hair was the only attractive thing about her, her features were coarse and her countenance was fretful. She occupied herself in filling and emptying her plate with astonishing rapidity, and paid little or no attention to her husband, who was so crippled by rheumatism as to be almost helpless, having entirely lost the use of one hand, and so nearly that of his lower limbs that he could not walk without assistance. He had a nurse, a young German, who was with him constantly day and night, helped him about and waited upon him, but in a very awkward fashion. The man's clumsiness was, however, borne with patience by the sufferer, and did not seem to trouble the wife. She eyed Violet curiously between her immense mouthfuls, and whispered to her husband, loud enough for the child to hear, "Isn't that a pretty girl, William? such a handsome complexion! I reckon she paints." The sudden crimsoning of Vi's cheek contradicted that suspicion instantly, and the woman corrected herself. "No, she don't, I see. I wonder who she is?" "Hush, hush, Maria!" whispered her husband, "don't you see she hears you?" and he gave the young girl such a fatherly look, gentle and tender, that quick tears sprang to her eyes: it was so strong a reminder of one whose look of parental love she should never meet again on earth. People at other tables were noticing her too, remarking upon her beauty and grace, and asking each other who she was. "We'll soon find out, mamma; don't you see she is with Miss Keith? and she will be sure to introduce her to us," said a nice looking girl about Vi's age, addressing a sweet faced lady by whose side she sat. They all met in the parlor shortly afterward, and Vi, Mrs. Perkins, her daughter Susie, and her son Fred, a lad of nineteen or twenty, were formally presented to each other. "I don't want to get into a crowd; I don't care to make acquaintances," Vi had said, half tearfully. Mary understood and respected the feeling, but answered, "Yes, dear cousin, I know: but do let me introduce Mrs. Perkins and her children. She is so sweet and lovely, a real Christian lady; and her son and daughter are very nice. We have been together a great deal, and I feel as if they were old friends." Vi did not wonder at it after talking a little with Mrs. Perkins, who had made room for her on the sofa by her side; her thought was, "She is a little like mamma; not quite so sweet nor half so beautiful; though she is very pretty."