"How do you do, Mrs. Franklin?" she said, holding out a very stiff hand and arm. She had made up her mind that she for one would not be kissed. "And are you Edith?" "Yes, Mrs. Franklin. I am Edith. I hope your journey has not tired you?" "Not at all. I am not easily tired." Edith kissed her father, then turned again to the stranger. "Let me show you the way upstairs." And thus Mrs. Franklin entered her new home. "I am afraid it is going to be war with Edith at first, but I won't be disheartened," she thought. "I'll make her like me. It is natural for her to feel so, I suppose. Ah me, I am in a difficult position." * * * * * Edith and Cynthia shared the same room. It was a large one with a bay-window, which commanded a fine view of the winding river and the meadows beyond. One could tell at a glance upon entering the room which part of it Edith occupied, and which Cynthia. Cynthia's dressing-table, with its ungainly pin-cushion, its tangle of ribbons and neckties tossed down anywhere that they might happen to fall, its medley of horseshoes, tennis balls, and other treasures, was a constant source of trial to Edith, whose possessions were always kept in perfect neatness. She scolded and lectured her sister in vain; Cynthia was incorrigible. "It's too much bother to keep things in order," she would say. "After you have been around with your duster and your fixings-up I never can find a thing, Edith." The night of Mrs. Franklin's arrival they talked over the new state of family affairs. "I think she is nice," said Cynthia, with decision. "I like her, and so does Jack." She was perched on the side of the bed, leaning against the tall post, her favorite position when she had anything of especial interest to discuss. [Illustration: "I DON'T LIKE HER, AND I WON'T!"] "I don't," said Edith, who was brushing out her long hair with great vigor. "I don't like her, and I _won't_." "That is just it, Edith. You have made up your mind you won't like her just because you didn't want her to come. Now she is here, why don't you make the best of it? What do you dislike about her?" "Her coming here. She had no right to." "Edith, how silly you are! She wouldn't have come if papa had not asked her, and she wouldn't have if she had not loved papa. I should think you would like her for that if nothing else. I do. And she is pretty and sweet and dear, and I am going to help her all I can. I think I shall even call her 'mamma.'" "Cynthia, I shall never do that. Never, to my dying day!" "Well, I shall; that is, if she doesn't mind." "She will. It will make her seem too old." "I don't believe she would mind that, and any one can see she isn't a bit old. I think we are very fortunate, as long as papa was going to marry again, to have him find such a nice, lovely woman." Edith did not reply. She finished her braid and tied it up. Then she said: