Up-stairs , in `` old '' Mrs. John 's bedroom , she and her married daughters held high conclave . `` Old '' John had established himself with his sons and sons-in-law in the parlour , and the three daughters-in-law were making themselves at home in the blue sitting-room , ear-deep in harmless family gossip . Lucinda and Romney Penhallow were also there . Thin Mrs. Nathaniel Penhallow sat in a rocking chair and toasted her toes at the grate , for the brilliant autumn afternoon was slightly chilly and Lucinda , as usual , had the window open . She and plump Mrs. Frederick Penhallow did most of the talking . Mrs. George Penhallow being rather out of it by reason of her newness . She was George Penhallow 's second wife , married only a year . Hence , her contributions to the conversation were rather spasmodic , hurled in , as it were , by dead reckoning , being sometimes appropriate and sometimes savouring of a point of view not strictly Penhallowesque . Romney Penhallow was sitting in a corner , listening to the chatter of the women , with the inscrutable smile that always vexed Mrs. Frederick . Mrs. George wondered within herself what he did there among the women . She also wondered just where he belonged on the family tree . He was not one of the uncles , yet he could not be much younger than George . `` Forty , if he is a day , '' was Mrs. George 's mental dictum , `` but a very handsome and fascinating man . I never saw such a splendid chin and dimple . '' Lucinda , with bronze-colored hair and the whitest of skins , defiant of merciless sunlight and revelling in the crisp air , sat on the sill of the open window behind the crimson vine leaves , looking out into the garden , where dahlias flamed and asters broke into waves of purple and snow . The ruddy light of the autumn afternoon gave a sheen to the waves of her hair and brought out the exceeding purity of her Greek outlines . Mrs. George knew who Lucinda was -- a cousin of the second generation , and , in spite of her thirty-five years , the acknowledged beauty of the whole Penhallow connection . She was one of those rare women who keep their loveliness unmarred by the passage of years . She had ripened and matured , but she had not grown old . The older Penhallows were still inclined , from sheer force of habit , to look upon her as a girl , and the younger Penhallows hailed her as one of themselves .
Yet Lucinda never aped girlishness ; good taste and a strong sense XXXXX humour preserved her amid many temptations thereto .
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