The little pucker in her brows became more perceptible. Her motherly features creased into anxious wrinkles. She did not see Sebastian turn towards the boy and his family, but every hair on the back of her neck stood up rigidly. “John! Welcome! Happy Thanksgiving!” Cathy cried, ushering him deeper into the house. "What's the matter, father!" continued the new-comer, addressing Wood. The old lady’s face was stiff with anger. It did not occur to her that they at least had found a way of earning a living, and had that much economic superiority to herself. I suppose you have come to see your granddaughter.
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