The Cowells lived in a large, comfortable house, with fine old trees
around it, and Mary began to hope, when she saw the wealth of sylvan
beauty, that her visit might not be so unbearable as she had feared.
The interior was not so promising; it was Mrs. Cowell and Louise
over again--plain, sensible, thrifty, but perfectly unendurable to
luxurious Mary, who was accustomed to elegance and loved it.
She sighed as she sat on the hard, hair-cloth easy-chair, and trying
the harder sofa, found it utterly impossible to adapt her round
little figure to its angles.
No wonder Louise was so prim if she had been brought up amid such
furniture! And then her thoughts turned to Tom. He was not prim. But
even in that short time she had come to the conclusion that he was
not like the rest of his family. Then why, oh! why, did he quote them
so often? Could it be possible that he would expect her to live in a
similar fashion? Perhaps that was why he had told her she could learn
housekeeping from Louise.
Whatever Tom's idea on the subject may have been, it was evident
that his mother meant to make her visit an apprenticeship to the
future life she expected her son to lead.
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