The young girl's face in the window, with her beflowered hat, a rose crowned with roses, in the dark setting of the window, was beautiful.

Even the aunt's face, older and more colorless, except for an unlovely flush of excitement, was pathetically compelling and charmed.

Mrs.Anderson, filling up the doorway with her stately bulk, swept around by her soft black draperies, her fair old face rising from a foam of lace, and delicately capped with lace, on which was a knot of palest lavender, stood in a frame of luxuriant Virginia-creeper, and smiled and nodded graciously to her departing guests, while wondering if they would meet her son coming home.

After that followed a reflection as to the undesirability of either of them as a possible daughter-in-law.
Just as she was turning to enter the house, after the coach had rolled out of sight, she saw her son coming down the street under the green shade of the maples which bordered it.

The mother went toddling on her tiny feet down the steps to the gate to meet her son.