where we had been wont to sew,--I weeping on her neck, and she trying to
turn my thoughts from my grief with planning how we two should
live,--when, the door opening, some one came briskly in who called us by
our names.

'What, Althea! what, Lucy! All in the dumps, and not a word to say to
your mother's own sister?' and, in great surprise, we looked up on our
aunt, whom we had seen but once since our mother died, when we were
quite little. She was looking kindly on us; her eyes were quick, black,
and sparkling, but had something very tender in them at that moment. I
noticed directly how plain she was as to her clothes, wearing a common
country-made riding-suit, all of black, and how her shape was a little
too plump for her low stature, while her comely face was tanned quite
brown with the sun; but methought the kind look she bent on us was even
sweeter because of her homely aspect. So I got up and ran to her,
holding out both my hands; but she took me into her arms, and kissed me
lovingly, saying,--

'Poor lamb! poor fatherless, motherless lamb! thou shalt feel no lack of
a mother while I live.'

Then, holding me in one arm, she stretched out the other hand to Althea,
who had come up more slowly, and she said,--

'And you too, my fair lady-niece; I have room in my heart for the two of
you, if you will come in;' on which the water stood in Althea's eyes,
and she took our aunt's hand and kissed it, saying,--

'God reward you, madam, for your goodness to us desolate orphans! I
receive it most thankfully.'