Mr. Livingstone made no reply, but felt that he’d made a mistake in praising ’Lena, in whom he began to feel a degree of interest for which he could not account. He did not know that way down in the depths of his heart, calloused over as it was by worldly selfishness, there was yet a tender spot, a lingering memory of his only sister whom ’Lena so strongly resembled. If left to himself, he would undoubtedly have taken pride in seeing his niece improve, and as it was, he determined that she should at home receive the same instruction that his daughters did. Perhaps he might not send her away to school. He didn’t know how that would be—his wife held the purse, and taking refuge behind that excuse, he for the present dismissed the subject. (So much for marrying a _rich_ wife and nothing else. This we throw in gratis!) Meantime grandma had returned to her room, at the door of which she found John Jr. and Carrie, both curious to know what was in those boxes, one of which had burst open and been tied up with a rope. “Come, children,” said she, “don’t stay out there—come in.” “We prefer remaining here,” said Carrie, in a tone and manner so nearly resembling her mother, that Mrs. Nichols could not refrain from saying, “chip of the old block!” “That’s so, by cracky. You’ve hit her this time, granny,” exclaimed John Jr., snapping his fingers under Carrie’s nose, which being rather long, was frequently a subject of his ridicule. “Let me be, John Livingstone,” said Carrie, while ’Lena resolved never again to use the word “granny,” which she knew her cousin had taken up on purpose to tease her. “Come, ’Lena, catch hold and help me untie this rope, I b’lieve the crockery’s in here,” said Mrs. Nichols to ’Lena, who soon opened the chest, disclosing to view as motley a variety of articles as is often seen. Among the rest was the “blue set,” a part of her “setting out,” as his grandmother told John Jr., at the same time dwelling at length upon their great value. Mistaking Carrie’s look of contempt for envy, Mrs. Nichols chucked her under the chin, telling her “May be there was something for her, if she was a good girl.” “Now, Cad, turn your nose up clear to the top of your head,” said John Jr., vastly enjoying his sister’s vexation. “Where does your marm keep her china? I want to put this with it,” said Mrs. Nichols to Anna, who, uncertain what reply to make, looked at Carrie to answer for her. “I reckon mother don’t want that old stuff stuck into her china-closet,” said Carrie, elevating her nose to a height wholly satisfactory to John Jr., who unbuttoned one of his waistband buttons to give himself room to laugh. “Mortal sakes alive! I wonder if she don’t,” returned Mrs. Nichols, beginning to get an inkling of Carrie’s character, and the estimation in which her valuables were held. “Here’s a nice little cupboard over the fireplace; I’d put them here,” said ’Lena.