"I have felt all day as though she did see me, Aunt Eunice," said Letty, in a low tone.
"It may be so, my dear, for all we know. I suppose thou dost not remember her?"
"Sometimes I think I do," said Letty; "but it may be only because mother Esther used to tell me so much about her. Am I like her?"
"Very much," replied Aunt Eunice. "Thou hast just her complexion and eyes,—though thy hair is not so dark,—and very much her expression. I hope thou mayest be like her in other things. She possessed, in greater perfection than any one I ever saw, the 'ornament of a meek and quiet spirit.' From the time that she was ten years old, I hardly ever heard an impatient word pass her lips; and, though she had many things to try her at home, nothing ever seemed to ruffle the sweet inward peace of her spirit. She appeared as one who walked, like Enoch, with God. She was always ready to promote and sympathize with the innocent merriment of others; but it was in the presence of sickness and sorrow that she shone pre-eminent. I used to think she was well called 'Comfort.'"
"I am afraid I am not much like her in meekness," said Letty. "Mother Esther used to call me a little tinder-box, sometimes."
"That comes from thy father," said Aunt Eunice, "and may perhaps be accounted for in other ways. Esther, though I verily believe meaning to be a true Christian, was something of a tinder-box herself. She had not the knack of going smoothly through the world. She was like an unshorn sheep in a brier-patch: every thorn gave her a pull. But she was always kind to thee, in her way; and I am glad thou hast been able to return her kindness, in some measure, by thy care of her orphan child. It must be pleasant for thee to think on, now that thou art setting up in life for thyself."
"Yes, indeed!" said Letty, warmly. "Aunt Train used sometimes to scold about my keeping myself so poor for Sally's sake; but I always told her I should never miss it."
"If I had been situated then as I am now, I should have offered to take the care of her off thy hands, at least so far as to give her a home. But thou knowest I have had my hands more than full till very lately. I must not keep thee here any longer, however, or John will be jealous. Let us go and see what he is about."
The day passed off very pleasantly. Aunt Eunice was a woman of a good deal of reading and experience, and her conversation was as agreeable and lively as it was instructive. She entertained the young people greatly by giving them an account of the way in which weddings were managed down on the Hudson among the Dutch colonists, where she had passed the first years of her married life.
Then John and Letty rambled all over the farm, looked at the cows and sheep, admired the early chickens and ducks (for which Aunt Eunice was quite famous), petted the new kittens, and searched the grove for early hepaticas.