Mrs. Sutton left Ridgeley in opposition to our earnest entreaties that she would spend the evening of her days with us.  I was assured then, as I am now, that she would receive the same love and respect nowhere else.  But she could not brook the semblance of interference with her rule where she had reigned so long and irresponsibly.  And while we may deplore, we can hardly find fault with this weakness.  It must have been a trial—­and not an ordinary one—­to be obliged, at her age, to resign the sceptre she had swayed for upward of fifteen years.”

“’Their words are smoother than oil, but in their mouths is a drawn sword,’” quoted Mrs. Sutton, in meek protest against the sugared malice of this slander when it was told to her.  “This is none of Mabel’s doings.  She loves me dearly as ever, but one might as well hope to move the Blue Ridge as to teach that pragmatical husband of hers to consult her wishes and her good, before he does his own.  His head is hard as a flint, and his heart—­never mind!  Heaven forgive me if I am unjust to him!  I should be thankful that he does not really mean to misuse my darling.  Now, my dears, you see how undesirable an inmate of any house I am rated to be.  If you wish to retract your offer of a hiding-place for my old head, I shall not take it amiss.  Thanks to Providence and my dear Frederic I have enough, to maintain me decently anywhere in this country.  I shall never be chargeable to anybody for my food, victuals, and lodgings.  If you are willing to let me board here and do odd stitches for the children when they tear their aprons and rub out the knees of their trowsers—­just to keep me out of mischief, you understand!—­I promise to be as little officious in housewifely concerns as it is in my nature to be.”

William Sutton and his wife—­a woman who was both sagacious and amiable—­reiterated their assurances that she could not confer a greater boon upon them than by remaining where she was, and with them she had stayed until Mr. Aylett sent over the Ridgeley carriage, one day in the third week in February, with a note from Mabel, begging her aunt to present herself, without needless delay, at the homestead, since she was not reckoned sufficiently strong to attempt the uneven and muddy roads that still separated them.  Mrs. Aylett also dispatched a billet by the coachman, the graceful burden of which was the same as that of Mabel’s petition, and the two long-sundered friends were speedily together; fellow-partakers of a bountiful and painstaking hospitality, which kept them continually in mind that they were guests, and not at home.