aking."

"And what will you do?" asked Hildegarde, still a little wistfully.

"Clean your room!" replied her mother, promptly.

"Mamma! as if I would let you do that while I was away!"

"Kindly indicate how you would prevent it while you were away, my dear!
But indeed, I don't mean a revolutionary, spring cleaning; I just want
to have the curtains washed, and the paint touched up a little; I saw
several places where it was getting shabby. Indeed, Hilda, I think the
trip to New York is rather a special providence, do you know?"

"Humph!" said Hildegarde, looking suspiciously at her parent. "And while
I _am_ gone, it might be a good plan to take up the matting, and
re-cover some of the chairs, and have the sofa done over, you think?"

"Exactly!" said Mrs. Grahame, falling innocently into the trap.
Whereupon she was pounced on, shaken gently, embraced severely, and
forbidden positively to attempt anything of the kind. Finally a
compromise was effected, allowing the washing of the curtains, but
leaving the details of painting, etc., till Hildegarde's return; and the
rest of the evening was spent in the ever-pleasant and congenial task of
making out a list.

"You cannot be expected to make visits, of course, dear, in so short a
stay; but there are one or two people you ought to see if possible,"
said Mrs. Grahame.

Hildegarde looked up apprehensively from her jottings of towels, gloves,
and ribbons to be bought. Her mother's ideas of family duty were largely
developed.

"Aunt Emily will expect you to call on Cousin Amelia, and no doubt the
girls will come to see you. Your Aunt Anna is in Washington."

"For what we are about to escape--" murmured the daughter.

"Hildegarde, I wonder at you!"

"Yes, dear mamma! what else were you going to say?"

Mrs. Grahame tried to look severe for a moment, did not succeed, and put
the subject by.

"Then there is old Madam Burlington; she would take it as a kindness if
you went to see her; you need not stay more than a quarter of an hour. A
Cranford call is all that is necessary, but do try to find an hour to go
and sit with poor Cousin Harriet Wither; it cheers her so to see some
young life. Poor Harriet! she is a sad wreck! You will probably dine at
your Cousin Robert Grahame's, and if Aunt Emily wishes you to call on
any of the Delansings--"

"Were you expecting me to stay away over Christmas?" inquired
Hildegarde, calmly.

"Why, darling, surely not! what do you mean?"