It would be tiresome both to ourselves and our readers, were we to enumerate the many mortifications which both Mr. and Mrs. Livingstone were compelled to endure from their mother, who gradually came to understand her true position in the family.  One by one her ideas of teaching them economy were given up, as was also all hopes of ever being at all familiar with her daughter, whom, at her son’s request, she had ceased to call “’Tilda.”

“Mebby you want me to say Miss Livingstone,” said she, “but I shan’t.  I’ll call her Miss Nichols, or Matilda, just which she chooses.”

Of course Mrs. Livingstone chose the latter, wincing, though, every time she heard it.  Dreading a scene which he knew was sure to follow a disclosure of his engagement with Miss Nancy, Mr. Livingstone had requested his mother to keep it from his wife, and she, appreciating his motive, promised secrecy, lamenting the while the ill-fortune which had prevented Nancy from being her daughter-in-law, and dwelling frequently upon the comfort she should take were Nancy there in Matilda’s place.  On the whole, however, she was tolerably contented; the novelty of Kentucky life pleased her, and at last, like most northern people, she fell in with the habits of those around her.  Still her Massachusetts friends were not forgotten, and many a letter, wonderful for its composition and orthography, found its way to Nancy Scovandyke, who wrote in return that “some time or other she should surely visit Kentucky,” asking further if the “big bugs” didn’t prefer eastern teachers for their children, and hinting at her desire to engage in that capacity when she came south!

“Now, that’s the very thing,” exclaimed Mrs. Nichols, folding the letter (directed wrong side up) and resuming her knitting.  “Nancy’s larnin’ is plenty good enough to teach Caroline and Anny, and I mean to speak to John about it right away.”

“I wouldn’t do any such thing,” said ’Lena, seeing at a glance how such a proposal would be received.

“Why not?” asked Mrs. Nichols, and ’Lena replied, “I don’t think Nancy would suit Aunt Livingstone at all, and besides that, they’ve engaged a teacher, a Mr. Everett, and expect him next week.”

“You don’t say so?” returned Mrs. Nichols.  “I never hearn a word on’t.  Where ’bouts is he from, and how much do they give him a week?”

The latter ’Lena knew nothing about, but she replied that “she believed he was from Rockford, a village near Rochester, New York.”

“Why, Nancy Scovandyke’s sister lives there.  I wouldn’t wonder if he knew her.”

“Very likely,” returned Lena, catching her bonnet and hurrying off to ride with Captain Atherton and Anna.

As we have once before observed, Anna was a great favorite with the captain, who had petted her until John Jr. teased her unmercifully, calling him her gray-haired lover, and the like.  This made Anna exceedingly sensitive, and now when the captain called for her to ride, as he frequently did, she refused to go unless the invitation was also extended to ’Lena, who in this way got many a pleasant ride around the country.  She was fast learning to like Kentucky, and would have been very happy had her aunt and Carrie been a little more gracious.  But the former seldom spoke to her, and the latter only to ridicule something which she said or did.