The door opened suddenly, and Mattie's reverie was interrupted by her mother, whose portly figure quite filled the space, for, in truth, the lady had enlarged her hip circumference with an unpardonable amount of padding. Mrs. Chapman expected distinguished company that day, and had arrayed herself in a tantalizing amount of finery. For the first time, too, she had put her hair up in puffs, which was the fashion of the day in Bowling Green. Indeed the lady flattered herself that there was nothing in Bowling Green that could excel her in the magnificence of her upholstery. "Expecting company to-day, very distinguished company, too," said Mrs. Chapman, advancing and bowing her head oppressively, "and how very annoying not to be dressed as one wants to be." After viewing herself in the glass for several minutes, turning first one side and then the other, viewing and reviewing her skirts, and training her puffs into more exact platoon, she turned to Mattie, and resumed, "Now tell me, my daughter, how do my skirts hang? Does my dress become me? Do puffs become me? You see my face is a little broad--puffs will, I am afraid, make it look disadvantageously broad. Tell me now, my daughter, am I presentable?" Mrs. Chapman waited with an air of self-admiration for a reply. "You have such good taste in such matters, my daughter;" she concluded. "Why, mother," replied Mattie, smiling and viewing her mother from head to foot, "how very worldly you are getting, and so vain. Never saw you look better--and so young." "I appreciate the compliment, my daughter," returned Mrs. Chapman, dropping a bow and a courtesy. "A woman of my complexion may be excused for refusing to get old." "I was only joking," resumed Mattie, laughing heartily. "My dear mother takes everything so serious--" "Come, come," interrupted Mrs. Chapman, her face coloring, "does my dress become me? Am I presentable?" "You are elegance itself, my dear mother, and would be presentable anywhere," returned Mattie, with a merry twinkle of the eye. "That's what I wanted to know," said Mrs. Chapman with a bow, and a slight motion backward. "And now, my daughter," she resumed quickly, "this is a good time for having a very serious talk on a very important, but very different matter. What we were talking about yesterday, you know. I hope you have made up your mind to banish Toodleburg." Mrs. Chapman drew herself up into a stately attitude, and assumed a look of uncommon severity. "You know how much your parents dote on you, my daughter, and how much depends on you to give the family a firm standing." The lady tossed her head haughtily and pretentiously. Mattie remained silent and thoughtful. "Toodleburg's at the bottom of the sea--that's my opinion. And if he stays there it wouldn't distress me--it wouldn't," resumed Mrs. Chapman, giving way to her temper and becoming more earnest. Just then tears gushed into Mattie's eyes, and as they coursed down her cheeks told the tale of her sorrow.