The allusions seemed to Gordon a bit incongruous with the recent heavy affliction of the household. The accuracy with which the waves of red hair, of a rich tint that suggested chemicals, undulated about the brow of the widow, the art with which the mourning-gown brought out all the best points and subdued the defects of a somewhat clumsy figure, the suspicion of a cosmetic's aid in a dark line, scarcely perceptible yet amply effective, under the prominent eyes, all contributed to the determination of a lady of forty-five years of age to look thirty. “Geraldine is always late for breakfast, but surely she ought to be down by this time,” Mrs. Brinn said, with as much acrimony as a mild old lady could well compass. “Oh, Geraldine reads half the night,” explained Mrs. Keene. “Such an injurious habit! Don't you think so, Mr. Gordon?” “Oh, _she_ is all right,” expostulated the young physician. “Geraldine has a constitution of iron, I know,” Mrs. Keene admitted. “But, mercy!--to live in books, Mr. Gordon. Now, _I_ always wanted to live in life,--in the world! I used to tell Mr. Keene”--even she stumbled a trifle in naming the so recent dead. “I used to tell him that he had buried the best years of my life down here in the swamp on the plantation.” “Pleasant for Mr. Keene,” Gordon thought. “I wanted to live in life,” reiterated Mrs. Keene. “What is a glimpse of New Orleans or the White Sulphur Springs once in a great while!” “'This world is but a fleeting show,'” quoted Rigdon, with a palpable effort to laugh off the inappropriate subject. “Oh, that is what people always tell the restricted, especially when they are themselves drinking the wine-cup to the bottom.” “And finding the lees bitter,” said Rigdon. The widow gave an offhand gesture. “You learned that argument from Geraldine--he is nothing but an echo of Geraldine, Mr. Gordon--now, isn't he, Mamma?” she appealed directly to Mrs. Brinn. “He seems to have a great respect for Geraldine's opinion,” said Mrs. Brinn primly. “If I may ask, who is this lady who seems to give the law to the community?” inquired Gordon, thinking it appropriate to show, and really beginning to feel, an interest in the personnel of the entourage. “Am I related to her, as well as to Mr. Keene?” “No; Geraldine is one of the Norris family--intimate friends of ours, but not relatives. She often visits here, and in my affliction and loneliness I begged her to come and stay for several weeks.”