Hetty took the comb and thridded it through the long tresses of her young lady, which, released from the silver arrow so gracefully looping them on the top of her head, now fell around her nearly to the floor.
"Hetty," exclaimed Ursula, suddenly throwing back her head and looking archly at the girl, "Hetty, do you want to see your mother?"
"O, Miss Ursula," cried Hetty, the tears springing to her eyes, "indeed, indeed I do!"
"Very well, I promise you then that in less than a week you shall be in her arms."
"O, my dear Miss Ursula, do you really mean so?" said Hetty, bending over and kissing the glowing cheek of her mistress.
"Yes, I really mean so—but dear, dear, you have run that hair-pin almost into my brain—never mind—only be quiet now—there, sit down, and I will tell you all about it." There was a roguish expression on Ursula's face as she continued: "Yes, you shall go home, and what's more, Hetty, I am going with you, and mean to live with you all summer, perhaps longer."
"Why, Miss Ursula!"
"Yes I do. And now you must assist me—you must promise me not to reveal to any one, not even to your mother, that I am the rich lady with whom you live. Remember I am a poor girl—poor as yourself—a friend of yours come into the country for—for her health—ha, ha, ha, Hetty, look at me—you must contrive to make me look paler, or shall this be a hectic?"
"But, Miss Ursula—it will never do—you who have always had every thing so beautiful around you—you can never live in our humble way!"
"Try me, try me, Hetty—for I am determined to lest my own individual merits, and see how far they may gain me the love and esteem of others when unsupported by the claims of wealth. Let me see, Hetty, I must have some employment aside from helping you to milk the cows and feed the pigs. Ah, I have it!" she cried, springing up and turning a pirouette—"listen—I will be a milliner! you know, aunt thinks I have a great knack at cap-making—O excellent idea—I will turn milliner for all the farmer's wives and daughters far and near." And catching up her embroidered mouchoir she began folding it into a turban, and then placing it gracefully on her little head, she turned to the laughing girl: "See there now—is not it exquisite—why my caps and turbans will turn the heads of all the swains in the village. You shall have one first, Hetty—you shall set your cap, and heigh-ho for a husband!"