“Will Atheling married--married--whom did he marry?” said the visitor, making her way to the house, and followed by the girls. “Eh! don’t you know, children, what was your mother’s name? Franklin? yes, to be sure, I remember her a timid pretty sort of creature; ah! just like Will.” By this time they were at the door of the parlour, which she opened with an unhesitating hand. Mrs Atheling, who had seen her from the window, was evidently prepared to receive the stranger, and stood up to greet her with a little colour rising on her cheek, and, as the girls were astonished to perceive, water in her eyes. This abrupt and big intruder into the family room showed more courtesy to the mother than she had done to the girls; she made a sudden curtsy, which expression of respect seemed to fill up all the requirements of politeness in her eyes, and addressed Mrs Atheling at once, without any prelude. “Do you remember me?” “I think so--Miss Rivers?” said Mrs Atheling with considerable nervousness. “Just so--Anastasia Rivers--once not any older than yourself. So--so--and here are you and all your children in my old professor’s room.” “We have made no change in it; everything is left as it was,” said Mrs Atheling. “The more’s the pity,” answered the abrupt and unscrupulous caller. “Why, it’s not like _them_--not a bit; as well dress them in her old gowns, dear old soul! Ay well, it was a long life--no excuse for grieving; but at the last, you see, at the last, it’s come to its end.” “We did not see her,” said Mrs Atheling, with an implied apology for “want of feeling,” “for more than twenty years. Some one, for some reason, we cannot tell what, prejudiced her mind against William and me.” “Some one!” said Miss Rivers, with an emphatic toss of her head. “You don’t know of course who it was. _I_ do: do you wish me to tell you?” Mrs Atheling made no answer. She looked down with some confusion, and began to trifle with the work which all this time had lain idly on her knee. “If there’s any ill turn he can do you now,” said Miss Rivers pointedly, “he will not miss the chance, take my word for it; and in case he tries it, let me know. Will Atheling and I are old friends, and I like the look of the children. Good girls, are they? And is this all your family?” “All I have alive but one boy,” said Mrs Atheling. “Ah!” said her visitor, looking up quickly. “Lost some?--never mind, child, you’ll find them again; and here am I, in earth and heaven a dry tree!” After a moment’s pause she began to speak again, in an entirely different tone. “These young ones must come to see me,” said their new friend--“I like the look of them. You are very pretty, my dear, you are quite as good as a picture; but I like your sister just as well as you. Come here, child. Have you had a good education? Are you clever? Nonsense! Why do you blush? People can’t have brains without knowing of it. Are you clever, I say?”