"Yes," she said, "he has very agreeable manners and talks well; and knowing that he comes of a godly race, I hope we shall find him in all respects a suitable companion for you and your sisters. I am glad of his coming for your sakes, for I fear you may have felt the want of young society." "Oh, no, mamma," they all protested, "we could not have enjoyed ourselves better. It has been so nice to have you quite to ourselves." CHAPTER XIX. "A mother is a mother still, The holiest thing alive." --_Coleridge._ The next morning's mail brought a letter from Mr. Dinsmore, announcing his speedy coming with his wife, father, Mr. and Mrs. Edward Allison, and several of their children. "There's an end to our good times!" sighed Violet. "Shall you be so very sorry to see your grandpa?" her mother asked with a slight smile, knowing that her father was dearly loved by all her children, and by none more than by Violet herself. "Oh no, mamma; nor grandma, nor any of them," was the quick reply; "only it was so nice to have you so entirely to ourselves." "Haven't you enjoyed it too, mamma?" asked several voices, while every face turned eagerly and inquiringly to hers. "Yes, indeed, my darlings," she said; "and yet so dearly do I love my father that my heart bounds at the very thought that he will be with me again in a few hours." "Then, mamma, we are all glad for you," Elsie said: Violet adding, "and for ourselves, too; for it is nice to have grandpa and grandma with us; and Aunt Adelaide also; she is always so kind." "Very different from Aunt Louise," remarked Edward. "Who would ever think they were sisters! Isa and Virginia are quite as unlike, too, though they are sisters. I hope Aunt Louise and her old-maid daughter won't visit us this summer!" "Edward!" his mother said in a tone of reproof. "Excuse me, mother," he said; "but if I dislike them, it is because they have always treated you so badly." "They have never done me any injury, my son," she answered, with gentle gravity, "and I would not have you feel unkindly toward them; much less am I willing to hear you speak of them as you did just now. Virginia is not an old maid, and if she were I should be sorry to have you apply that epithet to her." "She is several years older than I am, mother," he said, blushing. "About three; and you are only a boy." Edward felt this as the most cutting rebuke his gentle mother had ever administered to him, for he had begun to think of himself as a man, old enough and strong enough to be his mother's stay and support, and a guide to his younger brothers and sisters. But sensible that he had deserved the reproof, he bore it in silence; yet could not rest until seizing an opportunity to speak to her without being overheard by others, "Dear mamma," he whispered, looking beseechingly into her eyes, "will you not forgive my thoughtless, uncharitable speech of this morning?"