m, worth having."

My mother laughed.

"Maybe it's been a good thing for you, Maggie," grumbled my aunt; "if
it wasn't for cantankerous, disagreeable people like me, gentle, patient
people like you wouldn't get any practice. Perhaps, after all, I've been
a blessing to you in disguise."

I cannot honestly say we ever wished her back; though we certainly
did miss her--missed many a joke at her oddities, many a laugh at her
cornery ways. It takes all sorts, as the saying goes, to make a world.
Possibly enough if only we perfect folk were left in it we would find it
uncomfortably monotonous.

As for Amy, I believe she really regretted her.

"One never knows what's good for one till one's lost it," sighed Amy.

"I'm glad to think you liked her," said my mother.

"You see, mum," explained Amy, "I was one of a large family; and a bit
of a row now and again cheers one up, I always think. I'll be losing the
power of my tongue if something doesn't come along soon."

"Well, you are going to be married in a few weeks now," my mother
reminded her.

But Amy remained despondent. "They're poor things, the men, at a few
words, the best of them," she replied. "As likely as not just when
you're getting interested you turn round to find that they've put on
their hat and gone out."

My mother and I were very much alone after my aunt's death. Barbara had
gone abroad to put the finishing touches to her education--to learn the
tricks of the Nobs' trade, as old Hasluck phrased it; and I had left
school and taken employment with Mr. Stillwood, without salary, the idea
being that I should study for the law.

"You are in luck's way, my boy, in luck's way," old Mr. Gadley had
assured me. "To have commenced your career in the office of Stillwood,
Waterhead and Royal will be a passport for you anywhere. It will stamp
you, my boy."

Mr. Stillwood himself was an extremely old and feeble gentleman--so old
and feeble it seemed strange that he, a wealthy man, had not long ago
retired.

"I am always meaning to," he explained to me one day soon after my
advent in his office. "When your poor father came to me he told me very
frankly the sad fact--that he had only a few more years to live. 'Mr.
Kelver,' I answered him, 'do not let that trouble you, so far as I am
concerned. There are one or two matters in the office I should like to
see cleared up, and in these you can help me. When they are completed I
shall retire! Yet, you see, I linger on