“She won’t hate us if she’s anything like Mrs. Thorne,” said Daisy, with conviction. “Anyhow, Papa loves us, and he won’t say we’re horrid. Why shouldn’t she believe him just as well as Grandma?” “Perhaps he’ll think we’ve grown worse since he went away,” said Dulcie, mournfully, but Daisy refused to listen to any such gloomy possibilities. [Illustration: “DO WE SAY ‘HOW DO YOU DO, STEPMOTHER?’”--_Page 275._] “Mrs. Thorne said she was sure Papa wouldn’t marry anybody who wasn’t going to love us,” she maintained, “and I’m not going to worry any more than I can help. Now let’s think about dressing up. I’m going to curl Maud’s hair the way Lizzie used to do it, and Molly must wear her white muslin with pink ribbons.” As the clock on the stairs struck five, the four little girls, all dressed in their best, stepped out on the piazza, and seated themselves in a solemn row to await the arrival of the station hack. They were all feeling very nervous, even Daisy, and nobody felt much like talking. Grandma was still in her room, and they had the piazza to themselves. “Shall we have to kiss the stepmother?” Maud inquired, anxiously. “It will depend on whether she wants to kiss us or not,” answered Dulcie. “We shall kiss Papa first, of course, and then we’ll see what she wants to do.” “Do we say ‘How do you do, stepmother?’” Maud wanted to know. Dulcie shook her head. “I don’t think that would do,” she said, doubtfully. “It doesn’t sound exactly polite.” “Barbara calls Mrs. Thorne ‘Mamma,’” said Molly. “Do you think she will want us to call her Mamma?” “I hope not,” said Dulcie, reddening. “I don’t want to call anybody Mamma except our own dear mamma in Heaven.” “Barbara talked about her first mamma,” Daisy reminded them. “I think we’d better let Papa decide what we are to call her. He’s sure to know what is right,” she finished, with the comforting conviction that Papa always knew best about everything. Just then the whistle of an approaching train fell upon their ears, and Grandma, in her best black silk, came out onto the piazza. It was only a quarter of a mile to the station, and in the silence that followed they could hear the stopping of the train, and then the puffing of the engine as it moved on again. Grandma sat in a rocking-chair and folded her hands in her lap. She didn’t look in the least excited, not even ruffled. As for the four little girls, their hearts were beating so fast they could scarcely breathe. Half-unconsciously Dulcie slipped her hand into Daisy’s, and held it tight. There followed five minutes of breathless suspense, and then came the sound of approaching wheels. In another moment the station hack had turned in at the gate, and drawn up before the front steps.