They were going to spend the day at the farm-house, and she was going to be introduced to Fred's sisters and to his brother. But these did not concern her much, her thoughts were set on Mrs. Parsons, for Fred had spoken a great deal about his mother. When she had been told about Jackie she was of course very sorry; but when she had heard the whole of Esther's story she had said, "We are all born into temptation, and if your Esther has really repented and prayed to be forgiven, we must not say no to her." Nevertheless Esther was not quite easy in her mind, and half regretted that she had consented to see Fred's people until he had made her his wife. But it was too late to think of such things. There was the farm-house. Fred had just pointed it out, and scenting his stable, the old grey ascended the hill at a trot, and Esther wondered what the farm-house would be like. All the summer they had had a fine show of flowers, Fred said. Now only a few Michaelmas daisies withered in the garden, and the Virginia creeper covered one side of the house with a crimson mantle. The old man said he would take the trap round to the stable, and Fred walked up the red-bricked pavement and lifted the latch. As they passed through the kitchen Fred introduced Esther to his two sisters, Mary and Lily. But they were busy cooking. "Mother is in the parlour," said Mary; "she is waiting for you." By the window, in a wide wooden arm-chair, sat a large woman about sixty, dressed in black. She wore on either side of her long white face two corkscrew curls, which gave her a somewhat ridiculous appearance. But she ceased to be ridiculous or grotesque when she rose from her chair to greet her son. Her face beamed, and she held out her hands in a beautiful gesture of welcome. "Oh, how do you do, dear Fred? I am that glad to see you! How good of you to come all this way! Come and sit down here." "Mother, this is Esther." "How do you do, Esther? It was good of you to come. I am glad to see you. Let me get you a chair. Take off your things, dear; come and sit down." She insisted on relieving Esther of her hat and jacket, and, having laid them on the sofa, she waddled across the room, drawing over two chairs. "Come and sit down; you'll tell me everything. I can't get about much now, but I like to have my children round me. Take this chair, Esther." Then turning to Fred, "Tell me, Fred, how you've been getting on. Are you still living at Hackney?" "Yes, mother; but when we're married we're going to have a cottage at Mortlake. Esther will like it better than Hackney. It is nearer the country." "Then you've not forgotten the country. Mortlake is on the river, I think. I hope you won't find it too damp."