to his perfect satisfaction. I should have
been as happy as the rest also, if it had not been for the
anticipation that weighed down on me, of the expected pattern-card--my
lady-help.

Soon after my aunt's return home I received a letter from her,
announcing with great gratification her success. The letter was filled
with a long _preachment_ on household management, which my father read
very seriously, pronouncing his sister Lina a most excellent, sensible
woman, possessing more mind and judgment than did most of her sex. My
aunt wound up her letter, saying--

"But you will have little order and regulation about your house so
long as you keep that thriftless Biddy in it. Take my advice and tramp
her off bag and baggage before Lizzie comes, for, from my account of
her, Lizzie is not very favorably disposed toward her."

Here was a pretty state of affairs to be sure, not very agreeable to a
young housekeeper who had hitherto been her own mistress--my new maid
was to dictate to me even my own domestic arrangements. My father was
earnest in wishing to dispose of Biddy--but on that point, though
quiet, I was resolute in opposition. Poor warm-hearted Biddy, with all
her stupid thriftless ways, I could not find in my heart to turn away,
and as my chambermaid wanted to go to her relations in the "back
states," as she called the great West, I proposed to Biddy to take her
place, so soon as the new woman should make her appearance.

"If she's like the aunty of ye," said Biddy when we concluded this
arrangement and were talking of the expected new comer, "I'll wish her
all the bad luck in the world, for it's hot wather she'll kape us in
all the time with her painstakings."

Not in a very pleasant frame of mind I awaited the arrival of my new
domestic. Poor girl, there was no one to welcome her when she at last
came, and she stepped into the kitchen without one kind feeling
advancing to greet her. Biddy's warm Irish heart was completely closed
against her, and Ike, the saucy rogue, pursed up his thick lips in a
most comical manner when she appeared. But how my heart smote me when
I first looked at the pale, care-worn, sad-looking creature. She was
not pretty--her face bore the marks of early care and trial. She might
have been well-favored in girlhood, but if so, those good looks had
completely vanished. Her eyes were dim, her cheek hollow, and her brow
was marked with lines stamped by endurance; her whole person thin and
sp