"Anything else?" said Harry, buttoning on his overcoat.
"No; only be sure you come back early, for mamma says Aunt Maria is coming down here upon me, and I shall want you to strengthen me. The Doctor appreciates Aunt Maria."
"Certainly I do," said the Doctor; "a devoted relation who carries you all in her heart hourly, and therefore has an undoubted right to make you as uncomfortable as she pleases. That's the beauty of relations. If you have them you are bothered with them, and if you haven't you are bothered for want of 'em. So it goes. Now I would give all the world if I had a good aunt or grandmother to haul me over the coals, and fight me, out of pure love—a fellow feels lonesome when he knows nobody would care if he went to the devil."
"Oh, as to that," said Eva, "come here whenever you're lonesome, and we'll fight and abuse you to your heart's content; and you sha'n't go to that improper person without our making a fuss about it. We'll abuse you as if you were one of the family."
"Good," said the Doctor, as he stepped towards the front window; "but here, to be sure, is your aunt, bright and early."
[CHAPTER XXIX.]
AUNT MARIA FREES HER MIND.
The door opened, to let out the two gentlemen, just as Mrs. Wouvermans was coming up the steps, fresh and crisp as one out betimes on the labors of a good conscience.
The dear woman had visited the Willises, at the remote end of the city, had had diplomatic conversations with both mistress and maid in that establishment, and had now arrived as minister plenipotentiary to set all matters right in Eva's establishment. She had looked all through the subject, made up her mind precisely what Eva ought to do, revolved it in her own mind as she sat apparently attending to a rather drowsy sermon at her church, and was now come, as full of sparkling vigor and brisk purposes as a well-corked bottle of champagne.