"How much did you put in, Aunt Matilda?" asked Mrs. Loudon.

"Well, I needn't be a-sayin' jist how much it was; but it was solid
silver, anyway, and I don't reckon I'll ever see any of it back again.
But it don't differ much. Ise an old woman, and them chillen is a-doin'
their best."

"Yes, they are," said Mrs. Loudon; "and I think they're doing very well,
too. You haven't suffered for anything lately, have you?"

"Well, no," said the old woman, "I can't say that I've gone hungry or
nuthin'; but I was only a-gittin' 'fraid I might. Dis hyar 'tic'lar way
o' doin' things makes a person scary."

"I am glad that Kate is particular," said Mrs. Loudon. "You know, Aunt
Matilda, that money isn't very plenty with any of us, and we all have to
learn to make it go as far as it will. I don't think you need feel
'scary,' if Kate's economy is all you have to fear."

This interview somewhat reassured Aunt Matilda, but she was not
altogether satisfied with the state of things. The fact was that she had
supposed that the telegraph company would bring in so much money that
she would be able to live in what to her would be a state of comparative
luxury. And instead of that, Kate had been preaching economy and
systematic management to her. No wonder she was disappointed, and a
little out of humor with her young guardians.

But for all that, if Harry or Kate had fallen into a fiery crater, Aunt
Matilda would have hurried in after them as fast as her old legs would