s too. Sukey
has told me about Betty--just such another as herself. What a pretty
place this is!--not like aunt's old barn of a house. I feel at home
here already."

Whilst the young lady was prattling in this manner, Mrs. Fairchild was
showing Mrs. Goodriche to her sleeping-room. She had put up a little
couch-bed in the corner of the same room for Bessy, as she had no other
room to give; and this had been settled between the ladies the day
before. Mrs. Goodriche had told her niece to follow her upstairs, which
Miss Bessy might perchance have done, after a while, had not Betty
appeared coming from the kitchen to carry up the luggage.

"That is Betty," said Miss Bessy. "How do you do, Betty? Sukey told me
to remember her to you."

"Very well, thank you, Miss," said Betty, with a low curtsey, as she
bustled by with a bandbox.

Mrs. Goodriche now appeared, and speaking to her niece from the
stair-head said:

"Come up, Bessy, and put yourself to rights before tea."

"Shan't I do, Miss Lucy?" said Bessy; "aunty is so particular; she does
not know that I made a monstrous slit in my frock as I got into the
carriage. I pinned it up, however, as well as I could, though I was
forced to take the pins out of my dress for it. I shall run it up
to-morrow, for, if she sees it, poor I will be forced to darn it thread
by thread; so do lend me a pin or two, dear girls."

Betty now appeared again with a message to the young lady to go
upstairs to her aunt, and then Bessy hurried off so rapidly, taking two
steps at a time, that Lucy and Emily expected she would have a second
slit in her dress to mend the next day. She did not appear again till
told that tea was ready, when she came down after her aunt. Mrs.
Goodriche looked all kind and calm as usual; she seemed quite pleased
to find herself with her friends, though no doubt she was a little
uneasy lest her niece should disgrace herself. As Bessy passed Lucy to
go to a seat near Mrs. Fairchild, she whispered:

"Aunt has found out the slit, and poor I will be set to the darning
to-morrow."

The whole party were seated before Henry came in; he had been seeing
John put up the carriage. John had been busy, and Henry trying to
help--so Henry was not like the boy who helped his brother to do
nothing.

"Well, Master Henry," said Miss Bessy, calling over to the other end of
the table, "so you speak to my aunt, and say you are glad she is come,
and you don't speak to me."

"Because,