"Neither would be any trouble, but a great pleasure," said Mr. Andrews, civilly.
"Thank you; but there is no need to put it upon you. We have not left our books to chance bounty; the expressman is trusty, and takes them regularly."
"We sometimes have to wait three days!" cried Miss Varian, annoyed to have her errand look like a caprice.
"Well, I shall try to be more prompt than the expressman. Perhaps you'd better make out your list, that there may be no mistake."
"Missy, get a card, will you, and make out a list."
Missy again got up, after a moment's hesitation, looked in her desk, and got the card and pencil, and sat down as if waiting for further orders. In the meanwhile Goneril had come in, and was waiting, like a suppressed volcano, for information as to the cause of this repeated interruption of her evening's recreation. Miss Varian sent her for the book, and then said, "Missy, I wish you'd get the card."
"I have been waiting some time," said Missy.
"Well, then," said Miss Varian, pleasantly, "write out a list of Balzac, beginning with 'Les Petites Misères
de la Vie Conjugale'—translated, of course, for
Goneril can hardly read English, let alone French. I ought to have a French maid."
"Surely," said Missy, "if you want to read Balzac."
"I do want to read him, every line," returned her aunt. "'Les Petites Misères.' Well, let me see—what else haven't I read of his?"