Mildred at Home: With Something About Her Relatives and Friends.. Finley Martha

homeward.

      "You must allow some time for sight-seeing, my dear," said her husband. "It would be a great shame to carry Annis all the way out to Indiana again without having shown her the lions of Philadelphia."

      "Oh, certainly she must see them," said Mildred. "You can show them to her while Aunt Wealthy and I are shopping."

      "You intend, then, to shut me out of that business? How shall I know that you will not be ruining me?"

      "My dear," said Mildred, laughing, "you forget how rich you have made me. I shall have no occasion to ruin anybody but myself."

      "And as for me," remarked Miss Stanhope drily, "I have my own purse."

      "And father has sent money to buy Ada's things, mother's, and Fan's, too," added Annis. "But, Milly, I must have some share in the shopping, too. I expect to enjoy that as much as the sight-seeing."

      Mildred assured her she should have as much as she wanted, adding, "But there will be a good deal which will not be likely to interest you – napery and other housekeeping goods, for instance."

      "Your share of those things will interest me, and must be paid for from my purse," put in the doctor.

      "Quite a mistake," said Miss Stanhope; "those are the very things a bride or her parents are expected to supply."

      "But Mildred is no longer a bride. Milly, my dear, I want you to help me to select a dress for the bride that is to be."

      Mildred looked up with a pleased smile. "Just like you, Charlie; always thoughtful and generous!"

      Ada Keith was the coming bride. She and Frank Osborne had been engaged for some weeks, and expected to marry in the fall. This news had increased Annis's desire to get home. She wanted, she said, to see how Mr. Osborne and Ada acted, and whether they looked very happy.

      "And just to think," she added, "when they're married Fan will be Miss Keith, and we two will be the young ladies of the family."

      "Ah, indeed! How old may you be, my little maid?" laughed the doctor.

      "Most thirteen," returned the little girl, drawing herself up with an air of importance.

      "A very young young lady, most decidedly," he said with a humorous look, bending down to pinch her rosy cheek as he spoke.

      "I'm growing older every day," she answered demurely, edging away from him. "Father told me a year ago that I'd soon be a woman."

      "Quite soon enough, dear; don't try to hurry matters," said Aunt Wealthy. "You can never be a little girl again."

      Mildred, having brought a competent nurse with her thus far on her journey, a colored woman who would serve her in the care of little Percy while they remained in Philadelphia, then return to the South with Mrs. Dinsmore, was able to give herself to the shopping without distraction.

      As she had foreseen, the greater part of that work fell to her and Miss Stanhope, Dr. Landreth and Annis accompanying them constantly for a day or two only, after that for an hour or so when something was to be purchased in which they were specially interested.

      But the two ladies were equal to the demand upon them; Mildred had had a good deal of experience in shopping in the last few years, and Miss Stanhope was a veteran at the business – an excellent judge of qualities and prices – yet by reason of her absent-mindedness needed to have her knowledge supplemented by the collected wits of her niece.

      The old lady's odd ways and speeches often caused no little amusement to all within sight and hearing.

      One day she, her two nieces, and Dr. Landreth were in a large, handsomely appointed dry-goods store, looking at silks and other costly dress fabrics.

      They had made several selections, and while the doctor and Mildred paid for and saw the goods cut off and put up, Miss Stanhope moved on to the farther end of the room, where she saw, as she thought, an open doorway leading into another of similar dimensions and appearance.

      As she attempted to pass through the doorway she found herself confronted by a little old lady rather plainly attired. Miss Stanhope nodded pleasantly, and stepped to the right. At the same instant her vis-à-vis nodded also, and stepped to her left, so that they were still in each other's way. Miss Stanhope moved quickly to the other side, but the stranger doing likewise, they did not succeed in passing. Miss Stanhope stood still, so did the other, and for an instant they gazed steadily into each other's eyes.

      Then Miss Stanhope spoke in a gentle, ladylike, yet slightly impatient tone: "I should like to go on into that part of the store, if you will kindly permit me. Take whichever side you will; or, if you please, stand where you are and let me step past you."

      She attempted to do so, but again the stranger moved directly in front of her.

      "Madam," said Miss Stanhope, unconsciously raising her voice slightly, "I will stand still if you will be good enough to step out of my way."

      There was neither reply nor movement, but Miss Stanhope's ear caught sounds of suppressed laughter coming from various directions in her rear, and a clerk, stepping to her side, said, with an unsuccessful attempt to preserve gravity of countenance and steadiness of tone, "Excuse me, madam, but you are standing before a mirror. There is no doorway there."

      "Dear me! so I am! What an old simpleton not to recognize my own face!" she exclaimed, joining good-naturedly in the laugh her mistake had raised.

      "Very good evidence that you are lacking in the vanity that leads some to a frequent contemplation of their own features," remarked the proprietor politely.

      "Ah, sir, an old woman like me has small temptation to that," she returned.

      "What was it, Aunt Wealthy? What are you all laughing at?" asked Annis, joining her.

      "Just at a foolish mistake of your old auntie's, my dear, taking a mirror for an open doorway, and her own reflection for another woman who wouldn't get out of her way."

      Annis could not help laughing a little, though she tried not to, lest she should hurt the dear old lady's feelings.

      "I'm not much surprised, auntie," she said, gazing into the mirror, "for it does seem like looking into another store. I think I might have made that mistake myself; but I never could have taken you for anybody else, and it's odd you didn't know yourself."

      "Ah, dearie, self-knowledge is said to be the most rare and difficult thing in the world," returned Miss Stanhope pleasantly. "But come, I see the doctor and Milly are waiting for us."

      "We are going to some trimming stores now, Aunt Wealthy," said Mildred, "and you will be able to match your zephyrs, I hope."

      "Yes; I'll have my samples out ready to show," the old lady answered, taking them from a small satchel which she carried upon her arm. "You and the doctor walk on. Annis and I will follow. Take tight hold of my arm, dearie," she added, holding it out as they stepped into the street, "lest you should get separated from me and lost in the crowd – the streets are so full, and everybody seems in the greatest hurry."

      "Yes," said Annis, doing as she was bidden, "so different from Pleasant Plains; there one can hurry along or not as one likes without being jostled. There! Milly and Brother Charlie have gone into a store, and we must follow."

      They hastened in, almost out of breath from their rapid walk. Miss Stanhope gently shook off Annis's hand, stepped to a counter, holding out her samples of zephyr, and addressing a clerk, remarked, "These are lovely colors!"

      "Yes," said the girl, staring; "but what of it, ma'am?"

      "My aunt wishes to match them," said Annis with dignity, resenting the half-insolent tone of the girl.

      "Oh! go to the next counter."

      They moved on, Miss Stanhope smiling to herself at her own mistake, Annis with cheeks burning with indignation at the girl's rude stare and supercilious tone.

      "Don't forget what you want this time, auntie," she whispered, as they paused before the next counter.

      "No, dearie, but you mustn't mind your old auntie's blunders."

      This time they were waited upon by a sweet-faced, modest maiden,