Aunt
Kezia had taken off her spectacles, and was going on with her tucks as
if nothing had happened.

"Well, I will think about it," said Sophy. "I am not sure I shall
stay."

"_I_ shall stay," announced Hatty. "I expect it will be grand fun. She
will fill the house with company--that will suit me; and I shall just
look sharp after her and keep her in order."

"Hatty!" cried Fanny, in a shocked tone.

"I hope you will keep yourself in order," said my Aunt Kezia, drily.
"Little Cary, you have not spoken yet. What do you want to do?"

Her voice softened as I had never heard it do before when she spoke to
me. It touched me very much; yet I think I should have said the same
without it.

"O Aunt Kezia, please let me go with you!"

"Thank you, Cary," said my Aunt Kezia in the same tone. "The old woman
is not to be left quite alone, then? But it will be dull, child, for a
young thing like you."

"I would rather have it dull than lively the wrong way about," said I;
and Hatty broke out again.

"Would you!" said she, when she had done laughing. "I wouldn't, I
promise you. Sophy, don't you know a curate you could marry? You had
better, if you can find one."

"Not one that has asked me," was Sophy's dry answer. "You don't want
me, then, Miss Hatty?"

"You would be rather meddlesome, I am afraid," said Hatty, with charming
frankness. "You would always be doing conscience."

"Don't you intend to keep one?" returned Sophy.

"I mean to lay it up in lavender," said Hatty, "and take it out on
Sundays."

"Hatty, if you haven't a care--"

"Please go on, Aunt Kezia. Unfinished sentences are always awful
things, because you don't know how they are going to end."

"_You_'ll end in the lock-up, if you don't mind," said my Aunt Kezia;
"and if I were you, I wouldn't."

"I'll try to keep on this side the door," said Hatty, as lightly as
ever. "And when is it to be, Aunt Kezia?"

"The month after next, I believe."

"Isn't Cecilia going home first, to see what her friends say about it?"

"She has none belonging to her, except an uncle and his family, and she
says they will be delighted to hear it. Hatty, you had better get out
of the way of calling her Cecilia. It won't do now, you know."

"But you don't mean, Aunt Kezia, that we are to call her Mother!" cried
Fanny, in a most beseeching tone.

"My dear, that must be as your father wishes. He may allow you to call
her Mrs Courtenay. That is what I s