“Now we shall just have time to change our dresses,” said Anna, when everything pertaining to the dinner was in readiness, but ’Lena, knowing how flushed and heated she was, and remembering Durward’s distaste of high colors, announced her determination of not appearing at the table. “I shall see that grandma is nicely dressed,” said she, “and you must look after her a little, for I shall not come down.” So saying she ran up to her room, where she found Mrs. Nichols in a great state of fermentation to know “who was below, and what the doin’s was, I should of gone down,” said she, “but I know’d ’Tilda would be madder’n a hornet.” ’Lena commended her discretion in remaining where she was, and then informing her that Mr. Bellmont’s father and mother were there, she proceeded to make some alterations in her dress. The handsome black silk and neat lace cap, both the Christmas gift of John Jr., were donned, and then, staff in hand, the old lady started for the dining-room, ’Lena giving her numerous charges not to talk much, and on no account to mention her favorite topic—Nancy Scovandyke! “Nancy’s as good any day as Miss Graham, if she did marry a live lord,” was grandma’s mental comment, as the last-mentioned lady, rustling in a heavy brocade and loaded down with jewelry, took her place at the table. Purposely, Mrs. Livingstone omitted an introduction which her husband, through fear of her, perhaps, failed to give. But not so with John Jr. To be sure, he cared not a fig, on his grandmother’s account, whether she were introduced or not, for he well knew she would not hesitate to make their acquaintance; but knowing how it would annoy his mother and Carrie, he called out, in a loud tone, “My grandmother, Mrs. Nichols—Mr. and Mrs. Graham.” Mr. Graham started so quickly that his wife asked “if anything stung him.” “Yes—no,” said he, at the same time indicating that it was not worth while to mind it. “Got stung, have you?” said Mrs. Nichols. “Mebby ’twas a bumble-bee—seems ’sef I smelt one; but like enough it’s the scent on Car’line’s handkercher.” Mrs. Graham frowned majestically, but it was entirely lost on grandma, who, after a time, forgetful of ’Lena’s caution, said, “I b’lieve they say you’re from Virginny!” “Yes, madam, Virginia is my native state,” returned Mrs. Graham, clipping off each word as if it were burning her tongue. “Anywheres near Richmond?” continued Mrs. Nichols. “I was born in Richmond, madam.” “Law, now I who knows but you’re well acquainted with Nancy Scovandyke’s kin.” Mrs. Graham turned as red as the cranberry sauce upon her plate, as she replied, “I’ve not the honor of knowing either Miss Scovandyke or any of her relatives.” “Wall, she’s a smart, likely gal, or woman I s’pose you’d call her, bein’ she’s just the age of my son.”