it was Mrs. Stanbury at
one time."

"I never thought of that," said Mrs. Austin, starting. "What put it into
your head, Evelyn, and what made you so close-mouthed about it? Child,
you have an old head on young shoulders--I always said so; as like your
own precious mother as two peas. Yes, that would have been a nice
connection truly! The two young Stanburys forsooth, to divide every
thing with you and Miriam, and her rigid economy the rule in the house,
and Norman riding over every one on a high horse, and that lame brat to
be nursed and waited on! Any thing better than that, Evelyn. You are
right, my dear." And she tapped her suggestive snuffbox.

My elder sister was about thirteen years old when she uttered those
oracular sentences which elicited Mrs. Austin's commendations, and her
own clear-sighted _prevoyance;_ and I, at eight, whose mind was turned
to any subject save that of marrying and giving in marriage, stood
confounded by her superior wisdom and discretion. I gazed upon her
open-mouthed and wide-eyed as she spoke, drinking in every word, yet
very little enlightened, after all, by her remarks. She turned suddenly
upon me, and tapped my cheek slightly with her fan. It was a way she had
of manifesting contempt.

"Now run and tell Mrs. Stanbury every word I have spoken, just as soon
as you can, Miriam, do you hear? Don't forget one syllable, that's a
darling. Come, rehearse!"

"Won't it do after dinner, sister Evelyn?" I asked, gravely and
literally. "I want to go and see about my mole, now--my poor mole that
Hodges wounded with his spade this morning. It suffers so
dreadfully!"--clasping my hands in a tragic manner, not unusual with me
when excited.

"There! what did I tell you, Mrs. Austin? You will believe my report of
Miriam another time--little blab! There is nothing safe where she is,
and as to keeping a secret, she could not do it if her own life were at
stake, I verily believe."

"I _can_ keep a secret," I said, fiercely, "you know I can! You burnt my
finger in the candle to make me tell you where the squirrel was, and I
would not do it; Now, miss, remember that, and tell the truth next
time!"

"What a little spit-fire," said Evelyn, derisively. "You see for
yourself, Mrs. Austin."

"O Evelyn, Evelyn, did you, do that?" moaned the good woman. "Your
little sister's hand! To burn it so cruelly, and in cold blood. I would
not have believed it of you, my Evelyn--that was not like your mamma at
a