My aunt seconded the invitation most kindly, but my mother was quite firm in declining it. We promised them a visit, however, to my secret delight.
When Andrew came back from the navy office, whither he had been to report himself, and heard what had passed, his brow darkened, and he said anxiously:
"You will not surely think of it, aunt. You will not leave our Vevette here to be made a fine lady of?"
"Have no fear, Andrew," answered my mother. "Nothing is farther from my thoughts than to put my child into such hands. I would almost as soon have her in the hospital with poor Lucille."
"I am sure my uncle and aunt seem very kind," said I rather indignantly, and feeling somehow vexed that Andrew should say "our Vevette," though he had often done so before. I was quite dazzled, in truth, by the splendor of these new relations, who revived in some degree my old daydreams.
"They are so in their way, but that way is not ours," said my mother; "and even were the advantages they offer greater than I think them, I do not believe my child would wish to leave her mother for their sake."
"Oh, no, no!" I cried, feeling for the moment all I said. "Not for worlds."
"That is settled, then," said my mother. "And now tell us, Andrew, where have you been?"
Andrew told us he had been to the naval office, where he had met an old friend, Mr. Samuel Pepys, with whom, knowing him to be a man of honor and wise in such matters, he had taken counsel as to the sale of my mother's jewels. He said further that Mr. Pepys believed he could find a merchant who would give good value for the said jewels, and that the gentleman proposed to bring his wife to visit us on the morrow, if it would be agreeable.
"I must warn you not to judge him by the outside, for he is a vain little fellow in some ways," said Andrew, smiling; "but he is in truth a good man, and his wife is a bright little body."