Five Happy Weeks | Page 3

they went away with the strange auntie.

"Good-by, mamma!" cried three brave little voices, however, and three
handkerchiefs were waved, as they saw mamma smiling back
cheerfully to them from the deck of the "Old Dominion."
"In five weeks we'll see her again. It seems like for ever," said Edith to
Johnnie.
"Five weeks," said Aunt Maria, "is a very short while, when people are
having a really happy time. Just make up your minds to make each
other as happy as you can, my dears; you are going to see my family
pretty soon."
"There's the thea-thickness going back," little Mabel murmured.
"Never cross a bridge till you come to it, Mabel. It's a poor way to fret
over troubles that are five weeks off. I have known people who were
very sea-sick coming, and not in the least so going back. It may be that
way with you, little one; so look on the bright side."
CHAPTER II.
AUNT MARIA'S FAMILY.
But where were Aunt Maria's family? The carriage, when it left the
wharf, had been driven up a long narrow street, quite different from any
the children had ever seen before. On either side irregularly built
houses, most of them old and dingy, stood close together. Here and
there was a new one, which had the air of having dropped down by
mistake. They left this street, and turning into another, crossed a bridge,
which spanned an arm of the river that ran through part of the town.
Now the houses began to be large and stately, and were surrounded by
ample gardens, and walls of brick or iron railings separated them from
each other and the street.
Aunt Maria's coachman drove on and on, and the children began to
think he was going to drive into the river, for he seemed to be
approaching nearer and nearer to it. They looked out and saw a broad
sheet of water, over which many sloops and schooners, and many little

row-boats were moving. The light of the setting sun was touching the
white sails and the waves with a rosy glow. At the very water's edge
they stopped, and Aunt Maria led the way into her house.
It was a large mansion. One side of it was covered with ivy, and an
immense live-oak tree stood in the garden. Two or three tall magnolias,
and a number of fig-trees were scattered through the yard. Though it
was still wintry and cold at home, here the trees were in leaf, and there
were flowers in bloom.
A colored woman, with a red and yellow turban on her head, and a blue
and white checked dress on, came forward to receive the children.
Their trunks were carried up stairs, and opened, and they took off their
travelling dresses, and proceeded to get ready for dinner.
"Aunt Chloe will help you dress," Mrs. MacLain said. But Edith and
Mabel were unused to colored servants, and stood in great awe of her.
They were glad when she left the room to get some wood.
[Illustration]
"It too cold for missy without any fire," said she, as she went away.
"O Edith," Mabel whispered, "if we were only at home! I don't like it
here, I just hate it!"
"Never mind, it won't last always," said Edith. "I wish I had asked
mamma what to wear. Do you think we ought to put on our best frocks
the first day?"
"We're company, and company always do put on their goodest things,"
said Mabel.
"But not when they've come to stay so long. I suppose mamma would
say, 'Use your own judgment,' but I haven't any judgment, I'll ask Aunt
Chloe."
"La, honey, I don't know," said she. "Reckon I'll 'quire o' Miss Mariar."

Aunt Maria came back with her, looked over the children's wardrobe,
and told them to put on a crimson delaine dress, and a white apron. It
was what they usually wore afternoons at home.
Johnnie had had no such trouble. His clothing was to him of no great
importance, so long as it had buttons and strings on.
But where was Aunt Maria's family? The table was only spread for four.
The children looked at each other, but were too polite to ask questions.
"Bring Lucifer Matches," said Aunt Maria to Henry the waiter. As it
was broad daylight, the children wondered why she asked for matches.
Henry came back soon, followed by a funny little Scotch terrier, who
bounded up to his mistress, and looked at her with intelligent eyes.
"Lucifer Matches," said Mrs. MacLain, "is my special and particular
pet. I call him Luce for short. Johnnie, you may play with him as much
as you like."
"Come in, you angel!" the lady then exclaimed, as if to encourage
somebody who