CHAPTER XI.
AUNT MARY'S RETURN.
On the evening of the day after the juvenile party, a cab drove up to the garden gate of Oak Villa, and Dora and Annie Maitland, who had been on the look-out for some time at the window of an upper room, had the satisfaction of seeing their kind preceptress, and her niece Clara Beaumont, alight from it, receiving and giving at the same time the welcome nod and smile of recognition. But here is the trusty Bridget, with her merry face beaming with gladness, and her voice almost tremulous with joy, for she has had rather a dull time of it while her mistress and Clara have been away; though Jane Somers, a young girl living not far off from Oak Villa, came regularly to sleep at the house.
'Well, Bridget, and how have you been all this time? not idle, I can see at the first glance,' said Aunt Mary, looking round at the brightly-polished furniture and fire-irons.
'Oh no, ma'am, I don't think anybody can be idle at your house,' replied Bridget; 'and I have had plenty to do, for I have cleaned the house from top to bottom, and have taken care of the cat and the fowls. And oh, Miss Clara, the old hen has brought out such a beautiful set of chickens as you never seed afore; but I dare say you be too tired to come and look at them now,' added Bridget.
'Yes, we are too tired now,' said Miss Livesay, answering for her niece; 'we want to take off our wraps, and have some tea. Besides, you forget, my good woman,' added her mistress, 'that the chickens are now all hidden under their mother's wing, and she wouldn't suffer us to disturb them.'
'Dear me, I quite forgot that,' said Bridget, as she busied herself in assisting in the removal of cloaks and shawls, and carrying off trunks and band-boxes; one of the latter of which her kind mistress told her was for her, and contained a new cap and bonnet.
'Oh, ma'am, you are so kind,' said the pleased domestic; 'you never forget anyone.' And she hurried away with her load, with a glad tear glistening in her eye.
It was quite true what Bridget had said about Aunt Mary—she was indeed kind-hearted and open-handed: but with all this she was not foolishly indulgent. Her judgment was correct, and having made up her mind as to what was the right course to pursue, she took pains to see her plans carried out. Often and often had she remonstrated with her sister, Mrs. Ellis, on her laxity of discipline, both with her children and servants; and sometimes she had ventured, though that perhaps was not very wise, to set their mutual friend Mrs. Maitland before her as a pattern for mothers and mistresses. This, however, invariably produced some angry retort, or at least a flood of tears, and ended with a secret determination on the part of the elder sister to say no more on the subject, but permit things to take their course; though she had made up her mind on coming home to do as Mr. Ellis had once suggested to her, that was, to receive Mabel as one of her pupils.