Not how it would be. I told her so. I am so Mrs. Aubrey's deft French maid was sumsorry it happened—so mortified. It was Nina. moned, and Mrs. Andrews was in all ways She would n't come by that train." made comfortable. A supper-tray followed, flanked by a glass of Mr. Aubrey's famous port. Then came bed, after many more last lovingkindnesses and friendly speeches, and "goodnights," and injunctions about "not dreaming of getting up to her breakfast," in the midst of which Fraulein Hochzeiter, a spectacled, clever-looking governess, entered. She was introduced; was all concern, too, lest there should have been "some shock to the system of madame"; and offered a homeopathic remedy for insuring profound sleep, which was accepted. Then more good-nights," and Mrs. Andrews was left to darkness and her own thoughts-if the confused but agreeable impressions left by so much kindness can be called thoughts. "Poor dear! She is quite overcome. a word more, dear Mrs. Andrews. Don't explain. You are here safely, and that is the only thing that matters in the least," said Mrs. Aubrey warmly; and kneeling down by her, fell to chafing her hands, and begging her not to distress herself. Mabel brought a footstool; Arthur shaded the light of the nearest lamp; footmen hovered everywhere in the background, ready to do anything, but respectfully awaiting direction. Orders were rapidly given for a fire to be lit in her room, lest she should be chilled; and word was sent to the stables that the dog-cart should be sent to the station for the others. In short, in the next half-hour more 66 fuss," as Nina would have said, was made over Mrs. Andrews, more care taken of her, more concern shown for her comfort, more eager desire to consult her tastes and carry out her wishes, than she could recall in the whole course of her past life. It was all very gratifying to Mrs. Andrews, but puzzling, surprising. She was learning for the first time what a delightful thing it is to be old in England - receiving the privileges, respect, reverence, so freely accorded to old age by common consent there. When she was calmer, a handsome young officer staying in the house offered his arm and escorted her upstairs as carefully, deferentially, as if she had been the proverbial basket of eggs, or the loveliest girl in the world. She was asked by Mrs. Aubrey whether she liked a room with the morning sun, such as her host had chosen for her, "thinking it so very cheery." She did like it, and was taken into it, and found it the largest, prettiest, gayest room in the house, done up in pink chintz and gray satin. The fire had been lit, and glowed in delicious welcome to her; a large easy-chair was pulled for her close to it, and another footstool provided; two rosy, brisk housemaids were bringing last things-hot-water cans, a taperlight, a hand-bell. Soon the butler knocked, presenting Mr. Aubrey's compliments and a dainty cordial made from his own recipe. 66 Nina and Marian were welcomed with equal cordiality, if with much less demonstration, when they arrived. Marian privately made such explanation and apology as she could for what had happened, and gave Mrs. Aubrey a kind and yet a true impression of the child's character in so doing. That lady said, "Oh, really!" adding, "It is very sad and a great injustice to her that she should have been so foolishly indulged." But, none the less, she was very nice to Nina; hoped she would be happy at Aubrey; said she should let Mabel show Nina into her room after presiding over their supper; and kept an arm about the child as she talked kindly to her for some time. Mr. Aubrey was very playful with her; Arthur, the eldest lad, quietly civil; Mabel, the eldest daughter, shyly observant and eager to be alone with the new cousin. Mrs. Aubrey, perceiving this, said: "You must go up now, dear. Half-past eight is her usual hour, and it is long past," she said to Nina. "Bid papa good night, and see that your cousin is entirely comfortable. But remember not to stay talking longer than ten minutes. You will have to-morrow and all the days that follow to chatter in, you know; and you must be fit for your duties, you know, love." "Yes, mama," said Mabel, rising instantly. She said good night, and then turning to Nina, asked, "Will you come with me?" looking shyly at Nina, and blushing very much over the myself this afternoon. And I asked mama to ordeal of making acquaintance with her. "Where's grandy? I want to see grandy first," said Nina, who had begun to recover from the plunge into strange waters. "Oh, she 's fast asleep by this time, and must on no account be disturbed," said Mrs. Aubrey, gently but decidedly. "Miss Brewster's room opens into yours, and she will be at hand should you feel sleepless or nervous." "You'll not get much 'beauty sleep' as it is, Nina," said Mr. Aubrey genially from behind his magazine. "And look here. If you are not happy at Aubrey, do you come straight to your Uncle Edward's den in the east wing and lodge your complaints; and-by the beard of the Prophet!—if it is the fault of my youngsters, they shall all be popped in a sack and dropped into the river as a mild mark of my displeasure. Give us a kiss now, and be off with you, girls." He then said quickly, "Arthur!" and that young gentleman rose precipitately from his seat with a blush, and a "What is it, sir?" But he did not need an explanation, for, following the direction of his father's glance, he hastened to open the door for the two girls, and going over to a little table, chose two bedroom candlesticks, lit the candles, offered one, with a bow and a "Good night, Miss Barrow," to Nina, handed the other to Mabel, and returned to the drawing-room. Nina, overawed for once by the strangeness of her surroundings and the formality of her cousins, did not dare to urge again her wish to see her grandmother. When Mabel reached her room, she set down the light, and Nina could see that it was a small but extremely cozy little room, with a rosebud paper on the wall, a brass bedstead, white dimity curtains, a moss-green carpet, a long book-case full of books. In a small alcove there was a pretty little desk and a low chair. Over the fireplace, in old English text, was East or West, Hame 's best." A great bowl of lovely flowers stood on the dainty dressing-table. 66 let me hang my favorite picture — this one in here during your stay. I hoped you would be pleased with it," said Mabel, blushing rosily as she spoke, but still quite composed. "I hope everything is as you would like it." Together they wandered around the room and inspected everything. When they came to the fireplace, Mabel said, "We all have a liking for mottos at Aubrey, and have them all about. I did this one and the one over the front door. Papa chose it from Don Quixote,'-' Under my cloak, a fig for the king,'and some for the school-room and nurseries. Papa illuminates beautifully; you will see some of his missal lettering to-morrow. I am trying to learn it, but I am very dull about it. I think we may sit down for a bit.” They sat down, and very soon all stiffness, embarrassment, was gone, and they were chattering away like a pair of magpies, exchanging experiences, making plans-in a full flow of feeling and reminiscence with their arms around each other, indeed, when Mabel caught sight of the clock, and gave a guilty start. "Dear! dear! Only look! I've overstayed my time by fifteen minutes! I must go at once! You heard mama." 66 Well, what if you have? What if she did? Sit down!" said Nina. "It's all perfect nonsense! Stay. We are not a bit sleepy." "Oh, no; I can't! It is one of mama's rules. A positive command. And I 've promised, besides. I'd like to, of course, immensely. Good night. Come down the corridor to the day-nursery when you are dressed in the morning, won't you? — third door to the left. One more kiss! It is so nice to have an American cousin. You will find my Prayer-book over there on the table, if your own should not be unpacked, and you should wish to read your Psalm. Good night!" She hurried away, and Nina lay awake thinking of her- of her blue eyes, her beautiful golden hair in rich waves to her waist, her rosy cheeks, her large waist and "queer clothes," "Oh, how cute this is! What a lovely little her soft voice, her "curious" way of speaking, room!" Nina cried. "Do you truly like it? I am so delighted! I gathered and arranged the flowers for you her manner, what she had said and what she had meant by it — until she fell asleep. She did not stir or wake when Marian came up, but the maid came in to prepare her bath at seven next morning, and she rose with the greatest alacrity, feeling that the day would be full of novel sensations and experiences. She recalled Mabel's conversation with vivid interest. Who was "Don Quixote"? Why did "America" as pronounced by Mabel sound as if it were quite another country than the America Nina knew? What did Mabel mean about the Psalm? How kind and affectionate she had been! "I'm going to give her the biggest box of bonbons," she thought. Accordingly, without waiting until she was dressed, Nina flew over to her trunk and got out all the parcels and opened them. The bonbons were very good — the best—and perfectly fresh and tempting; indeed, so tempting were they, that on reflection it seemed an altogether better arrangement to eat the contents of the biggest box herself, and to give the next biggest to Mabel. With one shoe and stocking on, she carried the big box over to the alcove, took a chair, and then and there ate most of the contents in a very short time, although it was indeed a big box. After this she naturally felt indifferent about breakfast, and hurried only that she might see what was to be seen, and might have the pleasure of distributing her presents. "It was very good of you to remember them all," said Marian, coming in as Nina was leaving the room, her arms full of bundles. "To select gifts always in just the right time, to give them in just the right spirit and way, choosing the right thing for the right person, is the best part of giving, dear Nina. The wish to give pleasure was generous; but was it quite just to give pleasure at your grandmother's expense? Have you seen her this morning? No? Well, when you do, tell her that another time you will be more mindful of her comfort, as I know you will. How pleased the cousins will be with the things you have brought!" Nina had scarcely got out in the hall before she saw Mabel tiptoeing past Mrs. Andrews's door. "Good morning," Mabel said in a low voice, and kissed Nina affectionately. "Come down this corridor. Now we can talk." "Where are you going?" asked Nina. "To the day-nursery," said Mabel. "What have you there? I beg pardon!—it was rude to ask, I know." 66 Things for the children. Let's go downstairs and put them on their plates,” said Nina. "Really? How very kind of you, Nina! But they don't go downstairs. We have our meals upstairs with Fräulein and Nurse, all but Arthur, who is rather beyond that now. On Sunday I dine with papa and mama, and am allowed down every evening at dessert. You see, I am only seventeen, although I seem older, and of course I can't expect more until I am quite out of the school-room and a fullfledged young lady," said Mabel. "And do you suppose that I am going to eat at the second table with the nurses?" asked Nina angrily. "You can if you want to, but I just won't, not for anybody! I always sit at the first table, same as anybody; and order whatever I 've a mind to eat on the whole bill of fare, and send out for anything I want that is n't there, too. I never heard of such a thing." She stopped, and regarded Mabel with a heightened color. "Do you, really? How very, very odd! Well, I will speak to mama about it. But I should think you would rather be with us. It's lots jollier. And as to eating with the nurses, you really must be careful not to say anything about that where Nurse can hear it. She is a most respectable, intelligent woman, very refined for her station, and she would n't understand; and I can't think why you should mind in the least. Mama often dines with us when papa is away and there are no guests, and we think dear old Har-Nurse's name is Mrs. Harbottle-fit company for the Queen. I should have thought that in America, a republic, there could n't be such a feeling. Come along, and see for yourself, Nina, do! You don't know what fun we all have together. Hark! What a noise they are all making!" replied Mabel, and opened a door into a long, light, bright room, simply but comfortably furnished, having an air of perfect order and cleanliness, a long window stretching across one end, book-shelves, bird-cages, glass cases containing the "collections" of the Aubrey children, racks on which were disposed hats, bats, rackets, rods, and nets of various kinds. In the center was a long table around which were gathered six girls and four boys. Behind the tea-tray sat enthroned a stout, florid woman, Mrs. Harbottle, or “Nurse,”pleasant-faced, wearing an air of importance, dressed in the freshest of print dresses, wearing a spotless, neatly embroidered apron and a fluted cap with purple bows. Jane, the schoolroom maid, as freshly dressed in lilac print, apron, and cap― young, rosy, deft, and meek, stood behind her chair waiting for orders. The hubbub of voices ceased at once. "Put your parcels here," said Mabel, taking them from Nina. "They would not be allowed to open them now, of course. I beg pardon for being late, Nurse. This is my cousin from America. Where shall she sit? Here they are, Nina, all except the little chicks." She named them rapidly. Twelve pairs of eyes fastened upon Nina greedily. Jane curtsied on general principles. Jane always curtsied when in doubt. Nurse rose and officially welcomed the new arrival. "We are glad to see you here, miss," she said. "The children have talked of nothing else for three days. Sit here." They all seated themselves. Nurse looked at little Agnes, the youngest child present. The dear little soul, who looked like a blonde cherub, bent her head, cast down her sweet eyes, folded her hands in front of her,—all the others did the same,― and grace was said. Breakfast began. Nina now had time to look about her and make her own observations. There was a great yellow bowl of field flowers in the middle of the table. The linen and silver were of the finest and handsomest. All this was very well as far as it went; but where was the great essential of all breakfasts, the food, the dishes that she naturally expected to see, elaborate, numerous, various? Not on the table, clearly. Perhaps they would come later. She waited to see. A cottage loaf there was, a bowl of porridge, a pat of butter. In front of Mabel's plate was set a little dish containing four thin rashers of breakfast bacon. Presently Jane placed in front of the ten children ten bowls of bread and milk; she was bringing Nina one when she motioned it away, saying, "I don't want any breakfast," and thinking, "and I don't see any if I did want it." "Ah, miss, I fear you are over-tired," said Nurse kindly. "Perhaps, just for once, you 'd like a little of my tea, weakened, and a bit of dry toast. Jane, bring the toast." "No, thank you," jerked out Nina tartly. 'Jane, put Miss Barrow's bowl of bread and milk aside for her. You can't eat it now, miss, can you? I've had the children like that before now. Perhaps you could manage a bit of bacon?" said Nurse, willing to make every concession. To the surprise of the Aubreys, Nina declined all these dainties,- bacon, dry toast,—would not have even an egg. And to Nina's surprise, they all fell to upon their bread and milk with one accord and the best appetites possible; and two of the boys begged for "another help," and Catherine, being asked if she wasn't trifling with hers, said, "Oh, no, Nurse. It 's most delicious, thank you." The meal went on. Mabel, even, had only hotwater tea, with a good deal of milk in it and very little tea. The empty bowls were removed. Nurse now cut a great pyramid of slices from the cottage loaf, buttering each slice before she cut it; and the children devoured from three to seven slices of it, as an accompaniment to one single egg each, which even the youngest managed to break and eat with perfect propriety. Any lapse from propriety in their table manners was immediately observed and corrected by Mrs. Harbottle, whose authority was evidently unquestioned and absolute so far as it went. Nina could not make it out at all. She, who had always been coaxed, entreated, to find something that she would condescend to eat, who often missed a meal altogether, rarely ate heartily, could not get over her amazement at the provision made for her cousins, their attitude of subjection to Nurse, the restraints laid upon them, the appetites that seemed only the more ravenous. She had thought the table bare, to begin with. It was certainly so when the little Aubreys had satisfied themselves; and whatever she might think of the kind or lack of variety of the food provided, she could not doubt that a quantity of it had been disposed of with the greatest possible relish. "Well, perhaps they 'll have something for dinner," she thought, when they all rose from the table. There had been almost no talking. The Aubrey children seemed to be suffering from an acute and unconquerable fit of shyness, and could only stare in a round-eyed way at Nina. The presents, however, broke or thawed all the ice. The party became at once friendly, the children delighted, Nina pleased and flattered by their pleasure. There was a remarkable contrast in the dress of the children. Nina wore a silk and cashmere frock, trimmed, silk stockings, French shoes, and a gold watch pendent from a chatelaine. All the Aubrey girls wore plain stuff dresses, and brown holland pinafores, loose in the waist, adapted to any amount of running, playing, climbing, cut and made by Nurse and her nursery-maids, neat, comfortable, warranted to wear and "be serviceable." Their boots were thick. Their stockings were knitted of Scotch wool. The effect of the whole, rather clumsy and ungraceful, was redeemed by the bright youth, the perfect health, the brilliant bloom that went with it. The bonbons distributed, Nurse, to Nina's intense surprise and chagrin, doled out three apiece all round, and locked the remainder up, saying, "I can't have you making yourselves ill, and spoiling your appetites and digestions. You shall have three every day, after breakfast, until they are gone." They made no protest, at least, though to Nina's mind tyranny could no further go. "It was very kind of her; but is n't she the oddest-looking creature- our cousin? How extraordinarily she is dressed; and did you see her jewelry!" said Catherine, when Nina had left them, in almost an awe-struck whisper. "They are nice when they stop staring and get limbered, Cousin Marian," said Nina; "but the funniest children I ever saw. Mercy! Such clothes! Just like an orphan-asylum!" (To be continued.) |