But she was perfectly content with the approval which my kiss implied, and went into the parlor to await the coming of her guest. That moment Mrs. Lee's maid came down with a message from her mistress, and I went up-stairs at once. CHAPTER IX. FANCIES AND PREMONITIONS. It seemed a wonder that Mrs. Lee ever could have been a beautiful woman like her daughter, for she had faded sadly during her illness. Her hair was still thick and long, but the mountain snow was not whiter. Her face, too, was of opaque paleness; while her delicate eyebrows were black as jet; and the large eyes beneath them had lost nothing of their penetrating brightness. Mrs. Lee was lying on the couch, in the light of a broad window which opened to the south; the balcony was as usual filled with plants, and every morning her couch was moved, and the window drapery put back that she might command some feature in the landscape over which her eye had not wearied the day before. It was a harmless enjoyment, and one which the whole family loved to encourage. Indeed, there was not a fancy or caprice of hers which was ever questioned in that house. "Ah, Martha, it is you; I am glad of it. For when I am ill at ease, you always do me good." She held out her little thin hand while speaking, and pressed mine almost imperceptibly. "What has happened, Martha? During the last half hour something oppresses me, as if the atmosphere were disturbed; yet it is a clear day, and the roses on the terrace look brighter than usual." "Nothing has happened, dear lady. Mr. Lee has come back from town, bringing the lady we all expected." "Mrs. Dennison?" "Yes, Mrs. Dennison. She has just gone to her room." Mrs. Lee closed her eyes a moment and opened them with a faint smile, which seemed to ask pardon for some weakness. "Have you seen her?" "Yes. I was in the parlor when she came, and went with her to her room." "And you like her better than at first, I hope?" I hesitated. "She is beautiful!" "Yes, in a certain way," I answered; "but when one has got used to our Jessie's style, nothing else seems to equal it." The mother smiled and held out her hand again. "You love Jessie?" I felt the tears filling my eyes. There was something so tender and sweet in this question that it made a child of me. The mother turned upon her couch, bent her lips to my hand, and dropped it gently from her hold. "Martha Hyde, what is this which troubles me?" "Indeed, I cannot tell." "Does Jessie seem happy with her friend?" "Very happy; I have seldom seen her so animated." "But you have not told me plainly. Do you like this lady?" "I--I cannot tell. She is beautiful; at least most people would think her so;--rich, I believe?" I rather put this as a question. "I think so. She had splendid rooms at the hotel, you know, and spent money freely, so Mr. Lee was told; but that is of little consequence; we want nothing of her riches if she has them."