ing villa were
likely to prove agreeable neighbours; and this he had done to his
entire satisfaction, as Mr. and Mrs. Maitland, with their two sweet
little children, gave promise of pleasurable society.

At the time of his retirement from business, the four daughters of Mr.
Livesay were grown up to woman's estate; though perhaps that can hardly
be said of the youngest, Irene, who was only sixteen, while her two
sisters, Ada and Alice, were of the respective ages of eighteen and
twenty.

Great pains had been taken in the _real_ education of these young
ladies, for their excellent mother had spared no pains in their early
training; and as they were all quick and clever children, the task of
'teaching the young idea how to shoot,' in their case, proved
'delightful.' We wish this were oftener the case; but to proceed: Aunt
Mary, as we have said, was the eldest of these young ladies; she was at
the discreet age of four-and-twenty--indeed, she might have been thirty,
for the aptitude she displayed in household matters, taking all the care
of housekeeping off her good mother's hands, and being looked up to, and
appealed to, in all doubtful matters by her sisters.

Both Mr. and Mrs. Livesay considered their daughter Mary their chief
treasure; indeed, she was everything that a daughter ought to be.

There was one thing, however, lacking that her three sisters possessed:
she was not beautiful. Aunt Mary, if she had been pretty in infancy, had
been spoiled by that dreadful ravager, the small-pox, which she had
caught, through the carelessness of a nurse, when she was five years
old.

It had not, however, left her entirely without good looks; for the
kindly feelings of her heart beamed forth in the eloquent dark eyes and
the sweet smile that almost invariably lighted up her face.

Laughingly, she used to say to her sisters, 'Well, you may all get
married, and I shall live at home with my mother and father.'

And even as Aunt Mary said, so it came to pass: her sisters all married,
and she remained at home, the loving daughter, the tender nurse, the
deepest mourner for the loss of their dear parents, whom she had so
dutifully cherished in their old age.

At the death of Mr. and Mrs. Livesay, which happened about ten years
after the marriage of their two daughters, Ada and Alice--whom I must
now introduce to the reader as Mrs. Ellis and Mrs. Beaumont--Aunt Mary
was warmly entreated to give up housekeeping, and go and reside w