Her mother remarked upon it with delight.
"Yes, mother," she responded gayly, "I begin to feel a little happier about living here, now that I find we are to have good preaching, Sunday school—with an excellent and competent teacher for my share"—glancing archly at Aunt Wealthy's kindly, sensible face—"and pleasant friends;" going on to give a flattering description of the Chetwoods, particularly Claudina.
"I hope she will prove a valuable friend and a very great comfort to you, daughter," said Mrs. Keith. "You need young companionship and I am very glad to know that it will be provided."
The little girls had been up stairs putting away their best bonnets.
"Where's Viny?" asked Zillah, running back into the sitting-room where the older people still were.
"She went out telling me that she wouldn't be back till bedtime," replied the mother.
"Leaving us to do our own work!" cried Mildred. "Oh, mother, what made you let her?"
"Let her, my child? she did not ask my permission," laughed Mrs. Keith; "but indeed I think we are quite as well off without her for to-day; as we do no cooking on Sunday."
Before another week had passed, Mildred was ready to subscribe to the opinion that they were as well without her altogether—she having proved herself utterly inefficient, slow and slovenly about her work, unwilling to be directed, impertinent, bold and forward.