with hope and eagerness—they pressed close to Mrs. Whyte for her answer.
"No, poor dears, no; you are going to have a new mamma—a fine new one."
"We won't have a new mamma," Julia. "I will have my own mamma."
"Will is a naughty word for young ladies," said the housekeeper; "and you must be so good now; for your father, next week, will bring you a new mamma."
"Why has he brought her?" asked Ellen.
This question somewhat puzzled Mrs. Whyte.
"Because he has married her," was however her answer at last.
"And will she be called Mrs. Dalton, and live here always?" said Julia.
"Yes;–just like your mamma."
"And will she have mamma's room, and mamma's garden?"
"Yes;" said the old woman, her heart melting within her at all the recollections these word excited.
