Reader, if you were ever detained in a strange house by the non-arrival of your carriage, you will easily understand the excessive annoyance of finding that you are keeping a family out of their beds beyond their usual hour.  And in this case, there was a double grievance; the guests being all impatience to get off to a better place.  The children, all crying when wakened from their sleep, were finally taken to bed by two servant maids, and Jane Watkinson, who never came back again.  None were left but Hester, the great French scholar, who, being one of those young imps that seem to have the faculty of living without sleep, sat bolt upright with her eyes wide open, watching the uncomfortable visitors.

The Morlands felt as if they could bear it no longer, and Edward proposed sending for another carriage to the nearest livery stable.

“We don’t keep a man now,” said Mrs. Watkinson, who sat nodding in the rocking-chair, attempting now and then a snatch of conversation, and saying “ma’am” still more frequently than usual.  “Men servants are dreadful trials, ma’am, and we gave them up three years ago.  And I don’t know how Mary or Katy are to go out this stormy night in search of a livery stable.”

“On no consideration could I allow the women to do so,” replied Edward.  “If you will oblige me by the loan of an umbrella, I will go myself.”

Accordingly he set out on this business, but was unsuccessful at two livery stables, the carriages being all out.  At last he found one, and was driven in it to Mr. Watkinson’s house, where his mother and sister were awaiting him, all quite ready, with their calashes and shawls on.  They gladly took their leave; Mrs. Watkinson rousing herself to hope they had spent a pleasant evening, and that they would come and pass another with her on their return to New York.  In such cases how difficult it is to reply even with what are called “words of course.”

A kitchen lamp was brought to light them to the door, the entry lamp having long since been extinguished.  Fortunately the rain had ceased; the stars began to reappear, and the Morlands, when they found themselves in the carriage and on their way to Mrs. St. Leonard’s, felt as if they could breathe again.  As may be supposed, they freely discussed the annoyances of the evening; but now those troubles were over they felt rather inclined to be merry about them.

“Dear mother,” said Edward, “how I pitied you for having to endure Mrs. Watkinson’s perpetual ‘ma’aming’ and ‘ma’aming’; for I know you dislike the word.”

“I wish,” said Caroline, “I was not so prone to be taken with ridiculous recollections.  But really to-night I could not get that old foolish child’s play out of my head—­

  Here come three knights out of Spain
  A-courting of your daughter Jane.”

“I shall certainly never be one of those Spanish knights,” said Edward.  “Her daughter Jane is in no danger of being ruled by any ‘flattering tongue’ of mine.  But what a shame for us to be talking of them in this manner.”