Statira never forgot Major Bugbee’s kindness to her in her lonely orphanhood.  She preserved for him and for every member of his family a grateful affection; but her special favorite was James, the Doctor’s brother, who was a little younger than she, and who repaid this partiality with hearty good-will and esteem.  When he grew up and married, his house became one of Statira’s homes; the other being at her sister’s house, which was too remote from Belfield Green to be at all times convenient.  So she had rooms, which she called alike her own, at both these places, in each of which she kept a part of her wardrobe and a portion of her other goods and chattels.  The children of both families called her Aunt Statira, but, if the truth were known, she loved little Frank Bugbee, James’s only son, better than she did the whole brood of her sister Roxy’s flaxen-pated offspring.  Nay, she loved him better than all the world besides.  Statira used to call James her right-hand man, asking for his advice in every matter of importance, and usually acting in accordance with it.  So, when Doctor Bugbee invited her to take charge of his household affairs, Cornelia joining in the request with earnest importunity, she did not at once return a favorable reply, though strongly inclined thereto, but waited until she had consulted James and his wife, who advised her to accept the proffered trust, giving many sound and excellent reasons why she ought to do so.

Accordingly, a few months after Mrs. Bugbee’s death, Statira began to sway the sceptre where she had once found refuge from the poor-house; for though Cornelia remained the titular mistress of the mansion, Statira was the actual ruler, invested with all the real power.  Cornelia gladly resigned into her more experienced hands the reins of government, and betook herself to occupations more congenial to her tastes than housekeeping.  Whenever, afterwards, she made a languid offer to perform some light domestic duty, Statira was accustomed to reply in such wise that the most perfect concord was maintained between them.  “No, my dear,” the latter would say, “do you just leave these things to me.  If there a’n’t help enough in the house to do the work, your pa’ll get ’em; and as for overseein’, one’s better than two.”  But sometimes, when little Helen proffered her assistance, Tira let the child try her hand, taking great pains to instruct her in housewifery, warmly praising her successful essays, and finding excuses for every failure.  It was not long before a cordial friendship subsisted between the teacher and her pupil.

The Doctor, of course, experienced great contentment at beholding his children made happy, his house well kept and ordered, his table spread with plentiful supplies of savory victuals, and all his domestic concerns managed with sagacity and prudence, by one upon whose goodwill and ability to promote his welfare he could rely with implicit confidence.  Even the servants shared in the general satisfaction; for