“My daughter knew, you see, how much I have always thought of it, and she was determined that I should not give it up. She said I should have that much left, anyway. You see--my daughter is very unreconciled, still, to things as they are; and no wonder, perhaps. They are so different--from what they were!” Her voice broke a little. “Of course,” said Billy again, and this time the words were tinged with impatient indignation. “If only there were something one could do to help!” “Thank you, my dear, but there isn't--indeed there isn't,” rejoined the other, quickly; and Billy, looking into the proudly lifted face, realized suddenly that daughter Alice had perhaps inherited some traits from mother. “We shall get along very well, I am sure. My daughter has still another pupil. She will be home soon to tell you herself, perhaps.” Billy rose with a haste so marked it was almost impolite, as she murmured: “Will she? I'm afraid, though, that I sha'n't see her, after all, for I must go. And may I leave these, please?” she added, hurriedly unpinning the bunch of white carnations from her coat. “It seems a pity to let them wilt, when you can put them in water right here.” Her studiously casual voice gave no hint that those particular pinks had been bought less than half an hour before of a Park Street florist so that Mrs. Greggory _might_ put them in water--right there. “Oh, oh, how lovely!” breathed Mrs. Greggory, her face deep in the feathery bed of sweetness. Before she could half say “Thank you,” however? she found herself alone. CHAPTER XIX. ALICE GREGGORY Christmas came and went; and in a flurry of snow and sleet January arrived. The holidays over, matters and things seemed to settle down to the winter routine. Miss Winthrop had prolonged her visit in Washington until after Christmas, but she had returned to Boston now--and with her she had brought a brand-new idea for her portrait; an idea that caused her to sweep aside with superb disdain all poses and costumes and sketches to date, and announce herself with disarming winsomeness as “all ready now to really begin!”