Agnes could not see the matter in that light. She never could see that any of her requirements were selfish. She had all her life long acted on the principle (though probably she had never avowed it once to herself) of putting her own fancies and desires before those of any one else. If people gave way to her and waited upon her, well and good: it was no more than their duty. If they did not, they were hard-hearted, selfish and unkind, and she was the most abused of all her race. She habitually put herself first, and measured all other things by that standard. Even her mother had said, with some bitterness, in Letty's hearing, that there was no use in expecting Agnes to put herself out of her way for any one.
Joseph, a careless, good-natured fellow for the most part, was also fond of consideration and attention. He was fond of having things comfortable about home. He wanted his meals ready at the minute, and well cooked; and he expected his house to be in order when he entered it. But he was not as ready as he should have been to make allowance for his wife's inexperience in housekeeping. Hence, he sometimes spoke more hastily than was desirable, and made trifling matters of more importance than was necessary.
But Agnes, instead of striving to avoid those things which annoyed him, chose to consider that her own way was right, and perversely did the very same thing over again merely for the sake of having her own way. They had had no serious disagreement as yet; but she was laying up trouble for the future.
Just then John looked in. "Come, Letty; come out, and bring your work. Mr. De Witt is describing the Cathedral at Nuremberg, of which we had a picture in the paper, you know; and I am sure you would like to hear him. Besides, I like to have you near. Come, Agnes."
Letty cast a glance of triumph at her cousin, and prepared to obey. Agnes, with a demonstrative sigh, excused herself. She must go home, she said,—with a look which would have conveyed to a stranger the idea that she was going straight to martyrdom.
Towards the end of August, Letty was one day very much surprised to see a carriage stop at her gate, and the well-preserved figure of Aunt Eunice stepping from it, with two baskets and a pail. She ran out to welcome the good old lady and relieve her of her parcels.
Aunt Eunice was soon sitting on the sofa,—she had no love for rocking-chairs,—with her fine lawn and crape as unruffled as though she had just stepped out of her bedroom at the farm.
"Well, and how dost thou get on, dear? Every thing looks so neat and so comfortable about thee that it is hardly worth while to ask. I ought to apologize for coming on washing-day; but neighbour Jones offered to bring me in his easy carriage, and I thought I might never again have so good a chance. Don't let my coming put thee aback, now."
"Oh, my washing is all done and out long ago," said Letty, smiling. "These long hot days I like to get up and wash before breakfast, while it is cool and comfortable. I was up by four o'clock this morning."
"That's a good housewife!" said the old lady, approvingly. "But bring me that small basket, my dear. I have brought thee a small addition to thy family. Thou rememberest the yellow kitten thou admiredst so much? I have kept him on purpose for thee; and here he is."