out; but, alas! we don't see ourselves as others
see us.

CHAPTER XI.

AUNT MARY'S RETURN.

On the evening of the day after the juvenile party, a cab drove up to
the garden gate of Oak Villa, and Dora and Annie Maitland, who had been
on the look-out for some time at the window of an upper room, had the
satisfaction of seeing their kind preceptress, and her niece Clara
Beaumont, alight from it, receiving and giving at the same time the
welcome nod and smile of recognition. But here is the trusty Bridget,
with her merry face beaming with gladness, and her voice almost
tremulous with joy, for she has had rather a dull time of it while her
mistress and Clara have been away; though Jane Somers, a young girl
living not far off from Oak Villa, came regularly to sleep at the house.

'Well, Bridget, and how have you been all this time? not idle, I can see
at the first glance,' said Aunt Mary, looking round at the
brightly-polished furniture and fire-irons.

'Oh no, ma'am, I don't think anybody can be idle at your house,' replied
Bridget; 'and I have had plenty to do, for I have cleaned the house from
top to bottom, and have taken care of the cat and the fowls. And oh,
Miss Clara, the old hen has brought out such a beautiful set of chickens
as you never seed afore; but I dare say you be too tired to come and
look at them now,' added Bridget.

'Yes, we are too tired now,' said Miss Livesay, answering for her niece;
'we want to take off our wraps, and have some tea. Besides, you forget,
my good woman,' added her mistress, 'that the chickens are now all
hidden under their mother's wing, and she wouldn't suffer us to disturb
them.'

'Dear me, I quite forgot that,' said Bridget, as she busied herself in
assisting in the removal of cloaks and shawls, and carrying off trunks
and band-boxes; one of the latter of which her kind mistress told her
was for her, and contained a new cap and bonnet.

'Oh, ma'am, you are so kind,' said the pleased domestic; 'you never
forget anyone.' And she hurried away with her load, with a glad tear
glistening in her eye.

It was quite true what Bridget had said about Aunt Mary--she was indeed
kind-hearted and open-handed: but with all this she was not foolishly
indulgent. Her judgment was correct, and having made up her mind as to
what was the right course to pursue, she took pains to see her plans
carried out. Often and often had she remonstrated with her sister, Mrs.
Ellis, on her laxi