“O, mamma!”
“It is right that I should consult you about the work. It will make your duties more arduous. Then taking strangers into your family is never quite so pleasant. But go on with the letter. We will discuss it afterwards.”
I felt drawn so near to mamma by the talk and the confidence, that at first I could hardly take the sense of what I was reading. But I will tell you the story more briefly.
Papa and Mr. Duncan had been very dear friends for many years; in fact, I believe, since papa’s boyhood. When Mr. Duncan died he left papa a small legacy, and some valuable books and pictures, besides associating him with his brother in the guardianship of his three boys. Mr. James Duncan, who was an exceedingly proud and exclusive man, seemed to resent this, and treated papa rather coolly. Their business was done in writing, and papa had never seen his wards since their father’s funeral.
Stephen had spent one summer at our house when he was quite a boy. It seemed now that he preserved the liveliest recollection of my mother’s kindness and care, and desired very much to see my father. The taking of the boys he asked as a great favor, since he would have to spend all the summer in England; and he appeared to feel the responsibility of his brothers very keenly. It was such a nice, kind, gentlemanly letter, evincing a good deal of thoughtfulness, and respect for papa; and even where he spoke of the terms, he did it with so much delicacy, as if he were fearful that it would not be sufficient compensation, and proposed to come and talk the matter over, as he should, no doubt, need a good deal of advice from papa in the course of the next few years.
“What a good, sweet letter this is, mamma!” I said. “It makes me think of papa.”
“Yes; I liked it exceedingly. Papa is greatly interested with the plan. He thinks it will help us to straighten up matters, so that we can begin next fall quite easy in our minds. The only other thing he could do would be to take some boys to prepare for college. That is very wearing. In this we could all help.”
“I hope the boys will be nice,” I said, with a little misgiving.
“They will be out of doors a great deal, and certainly ought to behave like gentlemen, since they have been at the best of schools. You will have to keep their room in order; there will be rather more in the way of cooking and deserts; but Fanny must help a little during vacation. You see, baby is going to take up much of my time. But if I thought it would be uncomfortable for you girls—”
“O, mamma, it will only last such a little while, after all! And the two hundred dollars—”