THE ARRIVAL OF THE AUNT.


About a week after the events related in the last chapter, on a
certain lovely day in June, a hired fly might have been seen ascending
the steep avenue to Delaney Manor. The fly had only one occupant--a
round, roly-poly sort of little woman. She was dressed in deep
mourning, and the windows of the fly being wide open, she constantly
poked her head out, now to the right and now to the left, to look
anxiously and excitedly around her.

After gazing at the magnificent view, had anyone been there to look,
they might have observed her shaking her head with great solemnity.
She had round black eyes, and a rather dark-complexioned face, with a
good deal of color in her cheeks. She was stoutly built, but the
expression on her countenance was undoubtedly cheerful. Nothing
signified gloom about her except her heavy mourning. Her eyes,
although shrewd and full of common sense, were also kindly; her lips
were very firm; there was a matter-of-fact expression about her whole
appearance.

"Now, why does David waste all those acres of splendid land?" she
muttered angrily to herself. "The whole place, as far as I can see,
seems to be laid out in grass. I know perfectly well that this is an
agricultural country, and yet, when produce is so precious, what do I
see but a lawn here and another lawn there, and not even cows feeding
on them. Oh, yes! of course there is the park! The park is right
enough, and no one wants to interfere with that. But why should all
the land in that direction, and in that direction, and in that
direction"--here she put out her head again and looked frantically