particularly awful, and always exasperated her mistress.

"Well, why don’t you say somethin’, Lucinda? I ain’t askin’ your advice,
but, all the same, you can say anything if you’ve got a mind to."

"I ain’t got a mind to say anythin’," the faithful maid rejoined.

"I guess you hit the nail on the head that time," said Aunt Mary, without
any unnecessary malevolence concealed behind her sarcasm; then she re-read
the note and frowned afresh.

"Five hundred dollars is too much," she said again. "I’m going to write to
Mr. Stebbins an’ tell him so to-night. He can compromise on two hundred
and fifty, just as well as not. Get me some paper and my desk, Lucinda.
Now get a spryness about you."

Lucinda laid aside her work and forthwith got a spryness about her,
bringing her mistress’ writing-desk with commendable alacrity. Aunt Mary
took the writing-desk and wrote fiercely for some time, to the end that
she finally wrote most of the fierceness out of herself.

"After all, boys will be boys," she said, as she sealed her letter, "and
if this is the end I shan’t feel it’s money wasted. I’m a great believer
in bein’ patient. Most always, that is. Here, Lucinda you take this to
Joshua and tell him to take it right to mail. Be prompt, now. I’m a great
believer in doin’ things prompt."

Lucinda took the letter and was prompt. "She wants this letter took right
to the mail," she said to Joshua, Aunt Mary’s longest-tried servitor.