"She wants to read our Chester's letter," spoke up James, a lad of fifteen, so loud that Hepsy could hear him in the next room.
"Come, Hepsy! come and eat your dinner," cried Mr. Royden.
She said she was not hungry; but he insisted; and she sat down at the table, looking very pale, and with really no appetite.
Mr. Royden then proceeded to disclose the news which had probably occasioned the unpleasant scowl on his features, at his return from the post-office, two hours before. He said he had received a letter from his cousin Rensford, the clergyman, who proposed to visit them in the course of one or two weeks.
"His health is feeble, and he wants a vacation in the country. He expects me to write, if it will be perfectly convenient for us to have him here a month or so."
"I don't know how we can, any way in the world," said Mrs. Royden.
"O, I hope he won't come!" cried James. "If he does, we can't have any fun,—with his long face."
"Ministers are so hateful!" added Lizzie.
"He shan't come!" cried Georgie, flourishing his knife.
"Hush, children!" said Mrs. Royden, petulantly. "Put down that knife, Georgie!"