brother's reply.

"Oh! Edward, Edward!" she exclaimed, "And I dare say he will not be
punctual. He may keep us here till eleven."

"_Courage, mes enfants_," said their mother, "_et parlez plus
doucement_."

The girl then ushered them into the back parlor, saying, "Here's the
company."

The room was large and gloomy. A checquered mat covered the floor, and
all the furniture was encased in striped calico covers, and the lamps,
mirrors, etc. concealed under green gauze. The front parlor was
entirely dark, and in the back apartment was no other light than a
shaded lamp on a large centre table, round which was assembled a
circle of children of all sizes and ages. On a backless, cushionless
sofa sat Mrs. Watkinson, and a young lady, whom she introduced as her
daughter Jane. And Mrs. Morland in return presented Edward and
Caroline.

"Will you take the rocking-chair, ma'am?" inquired Mrs. Watkinson.

Mrs. Morland declining the offer, the hostess took it herself, and
see-sawed on it nearly the whole time. It was a very awkward,
high-legged, crouch-backed rocking-chair, and shamefully unprovided
with anything in the form of a footstool.

"My husband is away, at Boston, on business," said Mrs. Watkinson. "I
thought at first, ma'am, I should not be able to ask you here this
evening, for it is not our way to have company in his absence; but my
daughter Jane over-persuaded me to send for you."

"What a pity," thought Caroline.

"You must take us as you find us, ma'am," continued Mrs. Watkinson.
"We use no ceremony with anybody; and our rule is never to put
ourselves out of the way. We do not give parties [looking at the
dresses of the ladies]. Our first duty is to our children, and we
cannot waste our substance on fashion and folly. They'll have cause to
thank us for it when we die."

Something like a sob was heard from the centre table, at which the
children were sitting, and a boy was seen to hold his handkerchief to
his face.

"Joseph, my child," said his mother, "do not cry. You have no idea,
ma'am, what an extraordinary boy that is. You see how the bare mention
of such a thing as our deaths has overcome him."

There was another sob behind the handkerchief, and the Morlands
thought it now sounded very much like a smothered laugh.

"As I was saying, ma'am," continued Mrs. Watkinson, "we never give
parties. We leave all sinful things to the vain and foolish. My
daughter Jane has been telling me, that she heard th