As the Countess Nattatorrini, followed by the porter carrying her bag, descended from the train, broaching her parasol to ward off the rays of the sun, her eyes swept the platform with some embarrassment. A moment later she caught sight of her passerine sister waiting, motionless, before the wrong car, and she walked slowly down the platform to join her. It was a constant source of astonishment to her that this thin, spinster-like person, who wore clothes but who had no idea how to dress, was her sister. Lou was now gazing in every direction but the right one, a procedure entirely characteristic of her, thought the Countess. Lou turned, indeed, only when the Countess tapped her shoulder.
Ella! she cried, I've been looking for you everywhere.
Lou dear!
There was something subconsciously internecine in their embrace.
I'm afraid you'll find it rather hot here. We're having unusually warm weather for Maple Valley, were her next words.
O, I'm used to warm weather; I don't mind it,
