"Here is my aunt Wyllys driving up to the door," said Elinor, who was sitting near a window. "Do you feel equal to seeing her?"
"Oh, no, not to-day, dear," said Jane in an imploring voice; and Elinor accordingly remained with her cousin, while Miss Agnes went down to meet Mrs. George Wyllys. This lady was still living at Longbridge, although every few months she talked of leaving the place. Her oldest boy had just received a midshipman's warrant, to which he was certainly justly entitled—his father having lost his life in the public service. The rest of her children were at home; and rather spoilt and troublesome little people they were.
"How is Jane?" asked Mrs. Wyllys, as she entered the house.
"Very sad and feeble; but I hope the air here will strengthen her, after a time."
"Poor thing!—no wonder she is sad, indeed! So young, and such an affliction! How is the child?"
"Much better; she is quite playful, and disturbs Jane very much by asking after her father. What a warm drive you must have had, Harriet; you had better throw off your hat, and stay with us until evening."
"Thank you; I must go home for dinner, and shall not be able to stay more than half an hour. Is your father in? I wished to see him, as well as yourself, on business."
"No, he is not at home; he has gone off some miles, to look at some workmen who are putting up a new farm-house."
"I am sorry he is not at home, for I want to ask his opinion. And yet he must have his hands full just now, with that vexatious Stanley case. I must say, I think Clapp deserves to be sent to the tread-mill!"
"Perhaps he does," replied Miss Wyllys. "It is to be hoped at least, that he will receive what he deserves, and nothing more."