All the same the house was very old-fashioned, and it sadly needed to be refurnished. John was rich, and John was generous with his money; and she felt sure he would let her do over the house just as she pleased. Then her thoughts went back to the days when she had been sent to a boarding-school in New York to finish her education and to the afternoon walks when she and the other girls, two by two, had again and again passed in front of that very house; and now it was her home for the rest of her life. It was hers to brighten and to beautify and to make over to suit herself. She did not want to say a word against John's first wife, but it did seem to her that the elder woman had lacked taste at least. The wall-papers and the hangings were all hopeless, and the furniture was simply prehistoric. The drawing-room looked as though nobody had ever dared to sit in it; and it was so repellent that she did not wonder everybody kept out of it. Probably his first wife was a plain sort of person who did not care to entertain at all; perhaps she was satisfied with the narrow circle of church work. The young woman remarked how her mind kept on returning to her predecessor. She was ready to confess that this was natural enough, and yet it made her a little impatient nevertheless. Her eyes filled with tears when she thought of the swiftness with which a woman is forgotten when once she is dead. She went to the window of the sitting-room and looked down on Gramercy Park again. The November twilight was settling down, and the rays of the setting sun were obscured by a heavy bank of gray clouds. The wind had risen and was whirling the dead leaves in erratic circles. Rain was threatened and might come at any minute. The day that had begun in glorious sunshine was about to end in gloom. The young bride was conscious of a vague feeling of loneliness and homesickness; she found herself longing for John's return. As she turned away she heard the front door close heavily. With the swift hope that her husband might have come home earlier than he had promised, she flew to the head of the stairs. She was in time to see the butler gravely bowing an elderly gentleman into the drawing-room. Disappointed that it was not John, she went back to the sitting-room and dropped into the rocking-chair by her old desk. She wondered who it was that hastened to call on her the day after her home-coming. A minute later the butler was standing before her with the salver in his hand and a card on it. She took it with keen curiosity. "Dr. Thurston!" she cried. "Did you tell him Mr. Blackstock was not home yet?" "Yes, m'am," the butler responded; "and he said it was Mrs. Blackstock he wished to see particularly." "Oh, very well," she returned. "Say I will be down in a minute."