Instantly Mag dropped him. It was the first intimation of her father's marriage which she had received, and reeling backward, she would have fallen had not Walter supported her. Quickly rallying, she advanced toward her father, who came to meet her, and whose hand trembled in her grasp. After greeting each of his children he turned to present them to _his wife_, wisely taking Carrie first. She was not prejudiced, like Mag, and returned her stepmother's salutation with something like affection, for which Lenora rewarded her by terming her a "little simpleton." But Mag--she who had warned her father against that woman--she who on her knees had begged him not to marry her--she had no word of welcome, and when Mrs. Hamilton offered her hand she affected not to see it, though with the most frigid politeness she said, "Good evening, madam; this is, indeed, a surprise!" "And not a very pleasant one, either, I imagine," whispered Lenora to Carrie. Walter came last, and though he took the lady's hand, there was something in his manner which plainly said she was not wanted there. Tea was now announced, and Mag bit her lip when, she saw her accustomed seat occupied by another. Feigning to recollect herself, Mrs. Hamilton, in the blandest tones, said, "Perhaps, dear Maggie, you would prefer this seat?" "Of course not," said Mag, while Lenora thought to herself: "And if she does, I wonder what good it will do?" That young lady, however, made no remarks, for Walter Hamilton's searching eyes were upon her and kept her silent. After tea, Walter said, "Come, Mag, I have not heard your piano in a long time. Give us some music." Mag arose to comply with his wishes, but ere she had reached the door Mrs. Hamilton gently detained her, saying, "Maggie, dear, Lenora has always slept near me, and as I knew you would not object, if you were here, I took the liberty to remove your piano to the parlor, and to fit this up for Lenora's sleeping-room. See"--and she threw open the door, disclosing the metamorphose, while Willie, who began to get an inkling of matters, and who always called the piazza "outdoors," chimed in, "And they throw'd your little trees outdoors, too!" Mag stood for a moment, mute with astonishment; then thinking she could not "do the subject justice," she turned silently away. A roguish smile from Walter met her eye, but she did not laugh, until, with Carrie, she repaired to her own room, and tried to put something in the closet. Then coming upon the pile of extra clothes, she exclaimed, "What in the world! Here's all our winter clothing, and, as I live, five dresses crammed upon one nail! We'll have to move to the barn next!" This was too much, and sitting down, Mag cried and laughed alternately. CHAPTER VIII. DOMESTIC LIFE AT THE HOMESTEAD.