She gave him a smile and a nod, dropping a gold dollar into his hand along with her checks; the gentlemen said, “How d’ye do,” and were equally generous, and he went off chuckling.

As they drew near their destination, a quaint little figure could be seen standing at the gate in the shade of a maple tree, whose leaves of mingled green and scarlet, just touched by the September frosts, made a brilliant contrast to the sober hue of her dress.

“There she is! our dear old auntie!” cried Elsie with eager delight, that brought a flush of pleasure to Harry’s face.

Miss Stanhope’s greetings were characteristic.  “Elsie! my darling!  I have you again after all these years!  Mrs. Vanilla too! how kind! but you tell me your face is always that.  Horace, nephew, this is good of you!  And Mr. Torville, I’m as glad as the rest to see you.  Come in, come in, all of you, and make yourselves at home.”

“Does Mrs. Schilling still live opposite to you, Aunt Wealthy?” asked Elsie as they sat about the tea-table an hour later.

“Yes, dearie; though she’s lost all commercial value,” laughed the old lady; “she’s taken a second wife at last; not Mr. Was though, but a newcomer, Mr. Smearer.”

“Dauber, auntie,” corrected Harry, gravely.

“Well, well, child, the meaning’s about the same,” returned Miss Stanhope, laughing afresh at her own mistake, “and I’d as soon be the other as one.”

“Mrs. Dauber wouldn’t though,” said Harry.  “I noticed her face grow as red as a beet the other day when you called her Mrs. Smearer.”

“She didn’t mind being Mrs. Sixpence, I think,” said Elsie.

“Oh yes, she did; it nettled her a good deal at first, but she finally got used to it; after finding out how innocent auntie was, and how apt to miscall other names.”

“But I thought she would never be content with anybody but Mr. Wert.”

“Well, she lost all hope there, and dropped him at once as soon as Dauber made his appearance.”

Mr. Dinsmore inquired about the Kings.  Elsie had done so in a private chat with her aunt, held in her room directly after their arrival.

“The doctor’s as busy as ever, killing people all round the country; he’s very successful at it,” replied Miss Stanhope; “I’ve the utmost confidence in his skill.”

“You are a warm friend of his, I know, aunt,” said Mr. Dinsmore, smiling, “but I would advise you not to try to assist his reputation among strangers.”

“Why not, nephew?”

“Lest they should take your words literally, auntie.”

“Ah, yes, I must be careful how I use my stumbling tongue,” she answered with a good-humored smile.  “I ought to have always by, somebody to correct my blunders.  I’ve asked Harry to do me that kindness, and he often does.”

“It is quite unnecessary with us; for we all know what you intend to say,” remarked Mrs. Travilla, courteously.