The conversation was chiefly carried on by kindly little Mrs. Joshua and
by Mrs. Holt, who seemed at once to preside and to dominate. She praised
Honora's gown, but left a lingering impression that she thought her
overdressed, without definitely saying so. And she made innumerable--and
often embarrassing--inquiries about Honora's aunt and uncle, and her life
in St. Louis, and her friends there, and how she had happened to go to
Sutcliffe to school. Sometimes Honora blushed, but she answered them all
good-naturedly. And when at length the meal had marched sedately down to
the fruit, Mrs. Holt rose and drew Honora out of the dining room.

"It is a little hard on you, my dear," she said, "to give you so much
family on your arrival. But there are some other people coming to-morrow,
when it will be gayer, I hope, for you and Susan."

"It is so good of you and Susan to want me, Mrs. Holt," replied Honora,
"I am enjoying it so much. I have never been in a big country house like
this, and I am glad there is no one else here. I have heard my aunt speak
of you so often, and tell how kind you were to take charge of me, that I
have always hoped to know you sometime or other. And it seems the
strangest of coincidences that I should have roomed with Susan at
Sutcliffe."

"Susan has grown very fond of you," said Mrs. Holt, graciously. "We are
very glad to have you, my dear, and I must own that I had a curiosity to
see you again. Your aunt struck me as a good and sensible woman, and it
was a positive relief to know that you were to be confided to her care."
Mrs. Holt, however, shook her head and regarded Honora, and her next
remark might have been taken as a clew to her thoughts. "But we are not
very gay at Silverdale, Honora."