“Good!” said little Helen; “hurrah for Aunt Eunice!”

“And your ma,” resumed Statira, “I knew by her looks she was on my side, though, it bein’ her own house, she felt less free to say as much as your Aunt Eunice did.—­’In the first place,’ says I, ’if I did want to keep my money to buy furniture with, in case I should get a husband, I expect I’ve a right to, for ‘ta’n’t likely,’ says I, ’I shall be lucky enough to have my carpets giv’ to me.  But that wa’n’t the reason I didn’t put my name down for a dollar on that subscription.  One reason was, I knew the upshot on’t would be that somebody would be put up to suggestin’ that the money should go for a life-membership in the society for Miss Jaynes,’ says I; ’and I don’t like to encourage anybody in goin’ round beggin’ for money to buy her own promotion to a high seat in the synagogue.’—­You ought to seen Miss Jaynes’s face then!  It was redder’n any beet, for I’d hit the nail square on the head, as it happened, and the ladies could scurcely keep from smilin’.—­’Then,’ says I, ’I shouldn’t be my father’s daughter, if I’d give a cent for a preacher that isn’t smart enough to get his own livin’ and pay for his own clothes and eddication.  To ask poor women to pay for an able-bodied man’s expenses,’ says I, ’seems to me like turnin’ the thing wrong end foremost.  A young feller that a’n’t smart enough to find himself in victuals and clothes won’t be of much help in the Lord’s vineyard,’ says I.”

“And what did Mrs. Jaynes say?” asked little Helen, when Tira finally came to a pause.

“Well, really, my dear,” replied Miss Blake, “the woman had nothin’ to say, and so she said it.  When I got through my speech I handed the five-dollar gold-piece to your Aunt Eunice, to send to the Asylum, and that ended it; for just then Dinah come in and said tea was ready, and we all went out.  It was rather stiff for a while, and after tea we all went home; and for three long years Miss Jaynes never opened her face to me, until I came here to live, this time.  Now she finds it’s for her interest to make up, and so she tries to be as good as pie.  But though I mean to be civil, I’m no hypocrite, and I can’t be all honey and cream to them I don’t like; and besides, it a’n’t right to be.”

“But you ought not to blame Laura because her sister affronted you,” said Helen.

“I know that, my dear,” replied Miss Blake; “and if I’ve hurt the girl’s feelin’s, I’m sorry for’t.  She’s tried hard to be friends with me, but I’ve pushed her off; for, not bein’ much acquainted, I was jealous, at first, that Miss Jaynes had put her up to it, to try to get round me in some way.”

“Never!” cried Cornelia,—­“my Laura is incapable of such baseness!”

“Well,” said Statira, smiling, “come to know her, I guess you can’t find much guile in her, that’s a fact.  If I did her wrong by mistrustin’ her without cause, I’ll try to make amends.  It a’n’t in me to speak ha’sh even to a dog, if the critter looks up into my face and wags his tail in honest good-nater.  And I’ll say this for Laura Stebbins, anyhow, if she is Miss Jaynes’s sister,—­she’s got the most takin’ ways of ’most any grown-up person I ever see.”