"I always understood that John Dent was well-to-do," Rebecca
reflected comfortably. "I guess Agnes will have considerable.
I've got enough, but it will come in handy for her schooling. She
can have advantages."
The boy dragged the trunk up the fine gravel-walk, but before he
reached the steps leading up to the piazza, for the house stood on
a terrace, the front door opened and a fair, frizzled head of a
very large and handsome woman appeared. She held up her black silk
skirt, disclosing voluminous ruffles of starched embroidery, and
waited for Rebecca. She smiled placidly, her pink, double-chinned
face widened and dimpled, but her blue eyes were wary and
calculating. She extended her hand as Rebecca climbed the steps.
"This is Miss Flint, I suppose," said she.
"Yes, ma'am," replied Rebecca, noticing with bewilderment a curious
expression compounded of fear and defiance on the other's face.
"Your letter only arrived this morning," said Mrs. Dent, in a
steady voice. Her great face was a uniform pink, and her china-
blue eyes were at once aggressive and veiled with secrecy.
"Yes, I hardly thought you'd get my letter," replied Rebecca.
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