It was not very complimentary to Mr. Beresford to know that while she was willing to receive him _en dishabille_, as if he had been a block, the moment Phil came she was at once alive to all the proprieties of her personal appearance. Nor was it very gratifying to be thus summarily dismissed to make way for another, and that other the fascinating, good-for-nothing Phil, whom every woman worshipped; but there was no help for it, and bidding good-morning to the little lady who was standing before the mirror with her back to him, fixing her hair, he went out in the hall to meet—not Phil, but Grandma Ferguson and Anna. They had entered without ringing, and as Mr. Beresford opened the door of the library grandma caught sight of Reinette, and went unannounced, into her presence. CHAPTER XIII. THOSE PEOPLE. With a little start of surprise and disappointment, Reinette recognized her visitors, and for an instant her annoyance showed itself upon her face, and then she recovered herself, and went forward to meet them with far more cordiality in her manner than she had evinced toward them the previous day. “Good-morning, Rennet,” grandma began. “I meant to have come earlier, so as to have a good long visit before noon, for I sha’n’t stay to dinner to-day. We are going to have green peas from my own garden, and they’d spile if kept till to-morrow. Oh, my sakes, how hot I am!” and settling herself in the chair Reinette had vacated, the good lady untied her bonnet-strings, took off her purple gloves, and fanned herself rapidly with the huge palm-leaf she carried. “Please open one of them blinds,” she continued; “it’s darker than a pocket here, and I want to see Margaret’s girl by daylight.” Reinette complied with her request, and then for the first time Mrs. Ferguson noticed the bowl of water, and the dark rings about Reinette’s eyes. “Why, what’s the matter?” she asked. “Got the headache? Oh, I’m so sorry. You take it from your mother. She never could go nowhere, without comin’ home with sick headache. ’Twas her bile that was out of kilter, and you look bilious. Better take some blue mass, or else sulphur and molasses, and drink horehound tea. That’ll cleanse your blood.” As she listened Reinette began to grow rebellious again, and she could have screamed with disgust at what she knew was well meant, but what seemed to her the height of vulgarity. Sinking into a chair, with her back to the window, and her visitors in front where she could see them distinctly, she scanned them closely; but said very little to them. “She evidently cares nothing for us,” Anna thought, and she was beginning to feel angry and resentful, when Mrs. Jerry looked in, and seeing Mrs. Ferguson exclaimed: “Just the one I wanted. I’m making some currant jam, and wish you’d come to the kitchen a minute.”