Kezia
put down her flannel, wiped her spectacles, and looked round at us.

I knew something was coming, and I felt quite sure that it was something
disagreeable; but I could not form an idea what it was.

"Girls," said my Aunt Kezia, "I think you may as well hear at once that
I am going to leave Brocklebank."

I fairly gasped in astonishment. Brocklebank without my Aunt Kezia! It
sounded like hearing that the sun was going out of the sky. I could not
imagine such a state of things.

"Is Sophy to be mistress, then?" said Fanny, blankly.

"Aunt Kezia, are you going to be married?" our impertinent Hatty wanted
to know.

"No, Hester," said my Aunt Kezia, shortly. "At my time of life a woman
has a little sense left; or if she have not, she is only fit for Bedlam.
I do not think Sophy will be mistress, Fanny. Somebody else is going
to take that place. Otherwise, I should have stayed in it."

"What do you mean, Aunt Kezia?" said Fanny, speaking very slowly, and in
a bewildered sort of way.

Sophy said nothing. I think she knew. And all at once it seemed to
come over me--as if somebody had shut me up inside a lump of ice--what
it was that was going to happen.

"I mean, my dear," my Aunt Kezia replied quietly, "that your father
intends to marry again."

Sophy's face and tongue gave no sign that she had heard anything which
was news to her. Fanny cried, "Never, surely!" Hatty said, "How
jolly!" and then in a whisper to me, "Won't I lead her a life!" I
believe I said nothing. I felt shut up in that lump of ice.

"But, Aunt Kezia, what is to become of us all? Are we to stay here, or
go with you?" asked Fanny.

"Your father desires me to tell you, my dears," said my Aunt Kezia,
"that he wishes to leave you quite free to please yourselves. If you
choose to remain here, he will be glad to have you; and if any of you
like to come with me to Fir Vale, you will be welcome, and you know what
to expect."

"What are we to expect if we stop here?" asked Sophy, in a hard, dry
voice.

"That is more than I can say," was my Aunt Kezia's answer.

"But who is it?" said Fanny, in the same bewildered way.

"O Fanny, what a bat you are!" cried Hatty.

"I wonder you ask," answered Sophy. "I have seen her fishing-rod for
ever so long. Cecilia, of course."

"Cecilia!" screamed Fanny. "I thought it was some middle-aged,
respectable gentlewoman."

Hatty burst out laughing. I never felt less inclined to laugh. My