end aunt
Jane the particulars.

"I don' know how 'tis," grumbled Miranda, who was not able to sit up
that day; "but from a child I could never lay abed without Aurelia's
gettin' sick too. I don' know 's she could help fallin', though it
ain't anyplace for a woman,--a haymow; but if it hadn't been that, 't
would 'a' been somethin' else. Aurelia was born unfortunate. Now she'll
probably be a cripple, and Rebecca'll have to nurse her instead of
earning a good income somewheres else."

"Her first duty 's to her mother," said aunt Jane; "I hope she'll
always remember that."

"Nobody remembers anything they'd ought to,--at seventeen," responded
Miranda. "Now that I'm strong again, there's things I want to consider
with you, Jane, things that are on my mind night and day. We've talked
'em over before; now we'll settle 'em. When I'm laid away, do you want
to take Aurelia and the children down here to the brick house? There's
an awful passel of 'em,--Aurelia, Jenny, and Fanny; but I won't have
Mark. Hannah can take him; I won't have a great boy stompin' out the
carpets and ruinin' the furniture, though I know when I'm dead I can't
hinder ye, if you make up your mind to do anything."

"I shouldn't like to go against your feelings, especially in laying out
your money, Miranda," said Jane.

"Don't tell Rebecca I've willed her the brick house. She won't git it
till I'm gone, and I want to take my time 'bout dyin' and not be
hurried off by them that's goin' to profit by it; nor I don't want to
be thanked, neither. I s'pose she'll use the front stairs as common as
the back and like as not have water brought into the kitchen, but mebbe
when I've been dead a few years I shan't mind. She sets such store by
you, she'll want you to have your home here as long's you live, but
anyway I've wrote it down that way; though Lawyer Burns's wills don't
hold more'n half the time. He's cheaper, but I guess it comes out jest
the same in the end. I wan't goin' to have the fust man Rebecca picks
up for a husband turnin' you ou'doors."

There was a long pause, during which Jane knit silently, wiping the
tears from her eyes from time to time, as she looked at the pitiful
figure lying weakly on the pillows. Suddenly Miranda said slowly and
feebly:--

"I don' know after all but you might as well take Mark; I s'pose
there's tame boys as well as wild ones. There ain't a mite o' sense in
havin' so many children, but it's a turrible risk splittin' up f