his leaving her to join his ship—­and when the whilom Sister of Charity drove Cloudy nearly frantic by insisting—­whether in jest or earnest no one on earth could tell—­upon donning the little middy’s uniform and going with him!  However, the quarrel happily was never renewed, for before the next time of sailing, there appeared a certain tiny Cloudy at home, that made the land quite as dear as the sea to its mother.  And this little imp became Mrs. Waugh’s especial pet.  And if Jacquelina did not train the little scion very straight, at least she did not twist him awry.  And she even tried, in her fitful, capricious way, to reform her own manners, that she might form those of her little children.  And Mrs. Waugh and dear Marian aided her and encouraged her in her uncertain efforts.

About this time, Paul and Miriam were united, and went to housekeeping in the pretty villa built for them upon the site of Old Field Cottage by Thurston, and furnished for them by Mrs. Waugh.

And a very pleasant country neighborhood they formed—­these three young families—­of Dell-Delight, Locust Hill and the villa.

Two other important events occurred in their social circle—­first, poor harmless Fanny passed smilingly to her heavenly home, and all thought it very well.

And one night Commodore Waugh, after eating a good, hearty supper, was comfortably tucked up in bed, and went into a sound, deep sleep from which he never more awoke.  May he rest in peace.  But do you think Mrs. Waugh did not cry about it for two weeks, and ever after speak of him as the poor, dear commodore?

But Henrietta was of too healthful a nature to break her heart for the loss of a very good man, and it was not likely she was going to do so for the missing of a very uncomfortable one; and so in a week or two more her happy spirits returned, and she began to realize to what freedom, ease and cheerfulness she had fallen heir!  Now she could live and breathe, and go and come without molestation.  Now when she wished to open her generous heart to the claims of affection in the way of helping Lapwing or Miriam, who were neither of them very rich—­or to the greater claims of humanity in the relief of the suffering poor, or the pardon of delinquent servants, she could do so to her utmost content, and without having to accompany her kind act with a deep sigh at the anticipation of the parlor storm it would raise at home.  And though Mrs. Henrietta still “waxed fat,” her good flesh was no longer an incumbrance to her—­the leaven of cheerfulness lightened the whole mass.

Mrs. Waugh had brought her old maid Jenny back.  Jenny had begged to come home to “old mistress” for she said it was “’stonishin how age-able,” she felt, though nobody might believe it, she was “gettin’ oler and oler, ebery singly day” of her life, and she wanted to end her days “‘long o’ ole mistress.”

Old mistress was rich and good, and Luckenough was a quiet, comfortable home, where the old maid was very sure of being lodged, boarded, and clothed almost as well as old mistress herself—­not that these selfish considerations entered largely into Jenny’s mind, for she really loved Mrs. Henrietta.