BE TRUE. 37

came in from the store, “I shall’send
Mrs. Crocker, on the morrow, to
clean the house. I would have eve-
rything in perfect order by the last
of the week, as I intend to go to P
on Friday, and on Saturday return
with Mrs. Brass, whom you will, for
the future, respect as your mother:
and I expect, too, that you will treat
her two daughters as sisters.”

“Mrs. Brass!” thought Laura: the
name sounded queerly, and then as-
sociated with the recollection of the
lady herself, the head-load of curls
that had haunted her dreams for
many a night, with the broad, deter-
mined-looking face, that reminded her
of a church clock and steeple, all gave
a comical propriety to the name. Mrs.
Brass! thought Laura ; and glancing
at her father, she wondered if he were