Carrie, the eldest of the daughters, was now about thirteen years of age. Proud, imperious, deceitful, and self-willed, she was hated by the servants, and disliked by her equals. Some thought her pretty. _She_ felt sure of it, and many an hour she spent before the mirror, admiring herself and anticipating the time when she would be a grown-up lady, and as a matter of course, a belle. Her mother unfortunately belonged to that class who seem to think that the chief aim in life is to secure a “brilliant match,” and thinking she could not commence too soon, she had early instilled into her favorite daughter’s mind the necessity of appearing to the best possible advantage, when in the presence of wealth and distinction, pointing out her own marriage as a proof of the unhappiness resulting from unequal matches. In this way Carrie had early learned that her father owed his present position to her mother’s condescension in marrying him—that he was once a poor boy living among the northern hills—that his parents were poor, ignorant and vulgar—and that there was with them a little girl, their daughter’s child, who never had a father, and whom she must never on any occasion call her cousin. All this had likewise been told to Anna, the youngest daughter, who was about ’Lena’s age, but upon her it made no impression. If her father was once poor, he was in her opinion none the worse for that—and if _he_ liked his parents, that was a sufficient reason why she should like them too, and if little ’Lena was an orphan, she pitied her, and hoped she might sometime see her and tell her so! Thus Anna reasoned, while her mother, terribly shocked at her low-bred taste, strove to instill into her mind some of her own more aristocratic notions. But all in vain, for Anna was purely democratic, loving everybody and beloved by everybody in return. It is true she had no particular liking for books or study of any kind, but she was gentle and affectionate in her manner, and kindly considerate of other people’s feelings. With her father she was a favorite, and to her he always looked for sympathy, which she seldom failed to give—not in words, it is true, but whenever he seemed to be in trouble, she would climb into his lap, wind her arms around his neck, and laying her golden head upon his shoulder, would sit thus until his brow and heart grew lighter as he felt there was yet something in the wide world which loved and cared for him. For Carrie Mrs. Livingstone had great expectations, but Anna she feared would never make a “brilliant match.” For a long time Anna meditated upon this, wondering what a “brilliant match” could mean, and at last she determined to seek an explanation from Captain Atherton, a bachelor and a millionaire, who was in the habit of visiting them, and who always noticed and petted her more than he did Carrie. Accordingly, the next time he came, and they were alone in the parlor, she broached the subject, asking him what it meant.