CHAPTER VII.

MOTHER- AND DAUGHTER-IN-LAW.

                      Your pardon, noble lady! 
  My friends were poor but honest—­so is my love;
  Be not offended, for it hurts him not
  That he is loved of me.  My dearest madam,
  Let not your hate encounter with my love
  For loving where you do.

—­Shakspere.

The poor sisters had just finished their afternoon meal, cleaned their room, and settled themselves to their evening’s work.  Nora was spinning gayly, Hannah weaving diligently—­the whir of Nora’s wheel keeping time to the clatter of Hannah’s loom, when the latch was lifted and Herman Brudenell, bringing a brace of hares in his hand, entered the hut.

“There, Hannah, those are prime!  I just dropped in to leave them, and to say that it is certain my mother leaves for Washington on Saturday.  On Sunday morning I shall bring my wife home; and you, too, Hannah; for if you will not consent to live with us, you must still stop with us until you and Gray are married and ready to go to the West,” he said, throwing the game upon the table, and shaking hands with the sisters.  His face was glowing from exercise, and his eyes sparkling with joy.

“Sit down, Mr. Brudenell,” said Hannah hospitably.

The young man hesitated, and a look of droll perplexity passed over his face as he said: 

“Now don’t tempt me, Hannah, my dear; don’t ask me to stop this evening; and don’t even let me do so if I wish to.  You see I promised my mother to be home in time to meet some friends at dinner, and I am late now!  Good-by, sister; good-by, sweet wife!  Sunday morning, Mrs. Herman Brudenell, you will take the head of your own table at Brudenell Hall!”

And giving Hannah a cordial shake of the hand, and Nora a warm kiss, he hurried from the hut.

When he had closed the door behind him, the sisters looked at each other.

“Think of it, Hannah!  This is Thursday, and he says that he will take us home on Sunday—­in three days!  Hannah, do you know I never before believed that this would be!  I always thought that to be acknowledged as the wife of Herman Brudenell—­placed at the head of his establishment, settled in that magnificent house, with superb furniture and splendid dresses, and costly jewels, and carriages, and horses, and servants to attend me, and to be called Mrs. Brudenell of Brudenell Hall, and visited by the old country families—­was a great deal too much happiness, and prosperity, and glory for poor me!”

“Do you believe it now?” inquired Hannah thoughtfully.

“Why, yes! now that it draws so near.  There is not much that can happen between this and Sunday to prevent it.  I said it was only three days—­but in fact it is only two, for this is Thursday evening, and he will take us home on Sunday morning; so you see there is only two whole days—­Friday and Saturday—­between this and that!”