Bitter-Sweet

It was all charming, if a little strange--the friendliness of Miss Elton
when Lena met her at the station, the smart trap and groom that met them
at the end of their short journey, the very way in which Miss Elton took
possession of those awe-inspiring objects, and the respectful curiosity
of the loungers at the country station. As she stepped into the
carriage, Lena caught a glimpse of a cart-horse with so many ribs as to
suggest that the female of his species had yet to be created. He looked
so like her mother, that he gave her a spasm of anguish which she tried
to forget, as they were whirled down the road with its fringe of
straight-limbed trees. Never had the world looked more lovely. Her
spirits were lifted up.

Mrs. Lenox met them at the door with hospitable effusiveness, but Lena's
crucifixion began from that moment.

"The man will carry your bag up for you," said Mrs. Lenox.

As Olaf obediently stepped forward, Lena flushed and thought: "They both
noticed that it was only imitation leather."

Mrs. Lenox walked up stairs with them, chattering gaily with Madeline,
and Lena followed in embarrassed silence at the charming freshness and
daintiness of everything about her.

"I've put you and Miss Elton in adjoining rooms," said Mrs. Lenox,
smiling kindly at her, "so that you needn't feel remote and lonely on
your first visit here."

The man put down the bag and disappeared, and a trim maid came forward
to help Lena off with her coat which, with a sudden pang, she wished
were lined with satin instead of sateen.