The foster-sisters

by Lucy Ellen Guernsey

"I shall only be too glad to have them back at any time, Mrs. Philippa," answered Mrs. Thorpe, with some spirit. "And I only speak what I think in saying that I have never known two better young ladies."

"I dare say you are right, Mrs. Thorpe, and I am sure we are greatly obliged to you for your care of them," said Mrs. Deborah. "I shall see you to-morrow, and talk over a few matters with you. We are going to stay over a day, as we wish to make a few purchases."

Mrs. Thorpe took her leave, and the servant coming to the door at the same moment, Mrs. Deborah ordered supper, Mrs. Chloe agreeing in all she said, and Mrs. Philippa as regularly disagreeing with her.

"If Sister Deborah has no objection, Sister Chloe, I will take supper in my own room," said Mrs. Philippa, rising from the sofa, where she had been lying ever since we had come in. "I am very much fatigued, and not at all in spirits to make me fit to entertain company. Perhaps you will have the goodness to call Tupper."

The person in question being called, accordingly entered from the next room, and giving her arm to Mrs. Philippa led her away, though I must say Mrs. Philippa, did not look as though she stood in need of such help.

We were all the more comfortable for her absence. Mrs. Deborah relaxed her brows, and Mrs. Chloe lost something of her uneasy and apprehensive manner, and seemed as if she were preparing to enjoy herself. She was a woman of about thirty-five, I should say, and must have been very pretty before her face was disfigured by the smallpox. She had still a neat, trim figure, and dressed and carried herself remarkably well, and when she smiled she showed a set of wonderfully even white teeth.

Mrs. Philippa was decidedly stout, with red hair, and handsome features which were disfigured with the strongest expression of fretful ill-temper that I ever saw on any face. She looked well enough in health, and certainly the dishes which went in to her full and came out empty did not look as if she suffered from want of appetite, yet I soon learned that it w as her pleasure to consider herself an invalid, and that she kept her bed or sofa most of the time. I learned more about her afterward, which I shall tell in its place.

We became very chatty and familiar over our supper. Mrs. Deborah herself took only some bits of dry toast and a glass of wine and water, but she had ordered a roast fowl, and various dainties in the shape of cakes and creams, which she seemed pleased to see us enjoy. She asked us about our lessons, expressed her satisfaction in our progress, and avowed her determination to purchase a harpsichord for us.

"We have an old-fashioned spinet and an organ, but the spinet is past use, I fear. No one has touched either of them since Sister Philippa gave up playing."

"Do you not remember, Sister Deborah, that Mr. Cheriton played the organ the last time he came with his mother to dine with us?" Mrs. Chloe ventured to remark. "He said the instrument was in good order."