“Mother is in the parlour,” said Mary; “she is waiting for you.” By the window, in a wide wooden arm-chair, sat a large woman about sixty, dressed in black. She wore on either side of her long white face two corkscrew curls, which gave her a somewhat ridiculous appearance. But she ceased to be ridiculous or grotesque when she rose from her chair to greet her son. Her face beamed, and she held out her hands in a beautiful gesture of welcome.
“Oh, how do you do, dear Fred? I am that glad to see you! How good of you to come all this way! Come and sit down here.”
“Mother, this is Esther.”
“How do you do, Esther? It was good of you to come. I am glad to see you.
Let me get you a chair. Take off your things, dear; come and sit down.”
She insisted on relieving Esther of her hat and jacket, a
