Hatty was delighted when she reached the nursery, to be allowed to take the tiny being in her arms, and to hold his pretty soft hand in hers. Meg and Harry seemed to think it was a very attractive sight to see Hatty with the baby on her lap, and they left their soap-bubbles and came to stand about her. At this moment Aunt Barbara came in. She did not seem to notice Hatty and the baby. Her eyes at once fell upon the bowl full of soap-suds Meg had placed on a chair. “Dear! dear!” exclaimed Aunt Barbara, “what are the children coming to? Why, they waste soap as if it grew, instead of cost money! Here, Meg, pour this away directly, and don’t do such a thing again!” “It won’t help it to throw it away,” said Meg. “I want to blow bubbles.” “Shan’t have it! shan’t have it!” said little Harry, holding tight to the edge of the bowl with his little fat hands. “Aunt Barbara,” said Mrs. Lee, very gently, “I told the children they might blow bubbles a little while this afternoon. Jane mixed the soap for them, that they need not be wasteful.” “Its little use savin’ in such a house as this!” said Aunt Barbara, and she walked away as if she were particularly injured. Marcus now came in to tell how happy and contented the chickens seemed in the new coop. He saw some evidences of displeasure on the faces of Meg and Harry, and he exclaimed, “I met Aunt Barbara in the hall, with her indignation strut on. What’s up?” “Marcus, my son, I cannot bear to hear you speak in that way of any old person, especially of Aunt Barbara.” “But she is too tiresome and provoking, Mother. If I want a piece of twine for a kite-string she calls it wasteful, and—” “Yes,” broke in Meg, “and when I want to play tea, she won’t let me have a bit of milk or sugar,—that is, if mother is not here.” “Hush, hush, my children,” said Mrs. Lee, with a look of pain. “Come, sit down all of you, and I will tell you a story.” Marcus liked to hear stories as well as little Meg herself, and he forthwith sat down on the floor, where he could look straight into his mother’s eyes. Mrs. Lee began: “Once there was a little orphan girl, only seven years old. Her father and mother died, and she did not know what was to become of her. Now this little girl had an aunt, who was the widow of a clergyman. This aunt had a little cottage of her own, and just enough money to live quietly and comfortably by herself. She knew if she took the little orphan to her home, she must deny herself a great many comforts to which she had always been accustomed; but she resolved to do it. The little girl was very glad when she found that she was not alone in the wide world, and she soon learned to love the kind aunt who did so much for her.