As in the case of Aunt Peggy, now that his enemy was no more, Bacchus
became very magnanimous. He said Jupiter had been a faithful old animal,
though mighty queer sometimes, and he believed the death of Aunt Peggy had
set him crazy, therefore he forgave him for the condition in which he had
put his face, and should lay him by his mistress at the burial-ground.
Lydia begged an old candle-box of Miss Janet, for a coffin, and assisted
her father in the other funeral arrangements. With a secret satisfaction
and a solemn air, Bacchus carried off the box, followed by a number of
black children, that Lydia had invited to the funeral. They watched Bacchus
with great attention while he completed his work, and the whole party
returned under the impression that Aunt Peggy and Jupiter were perfectly
satisfied with the morning's transactions.

CHAPTER XX.

The time had come to leave home, and the Westons had but one more evening.
Neither Mr. Weston nor Alice were well, and all hoped the change would
benefit them. They were to travel in their own carriage, and the
preparations were completed. The three ladies' maids were to go by the
stage. Miss Janet had a number of things stowed away in the carriage, which
she thought might be useful, not forgetting materials for a lunch, and a
little of her own home-made lavender, in case of a headache. The pleasure
of going was very much lessened by the necessity of leaving the dear old
lady, who would not listen to their entreaties to accompany them. "You,
with your smooth cheeks and bright eyes, may well think of passing a winter
in Washington; but what should I do there? Why, the people would say I had
lost my senses. No, we three ladies will have a nice quiet time at Exeter,
and I can go on with my quilting and patchwork. You see, Miss Alice, that
you come back with red cheeks. The birds and the flowers will be glad to
see you again when the spring comes."

"Ring the bell, Alice," said Mr. Weston. "I must know how Mr. Mason's
little boy is. I sent Mark shortly after dinner; but here he is. Well,
Mark, I hope the little fellow is getting well?"

"He is _receased_, sir," said Mark, solemnly.

"He is what?" said Mr. Weston. "Oh! ah! he is dead--I understand you. Well,
I am truly sorry for it. When did he die?"

"Early this morning, sir," said Mark. "Have you any more orders to give,
sir? for as I am to be up mighty early in the morning, I was thinking of
going to bed when you are