"AND so, Letty, you are really going to be married?" Nobody could have mistaken Mrs. Trescott for any thing but a lady, though she was dressed in a very ancient calico wrapper and a gingham apron, and though her sleeves were turned up to her elbows, and her hands stained with the fruit she was paring. Mrs. Trescott was, in housekeeping phrase, "getting ready to do up her quinces," and had chosen that opportunity to hold a little confidential and friendly chat with her chambermaid, Letty Bright, about her future prospects. Letty had lived a long time with Mrs. Trescott, and had won her great regard. "And so you are really going to be married?" Letty hung down her head, blushed and smiled, and said she supposed there was no use in denying it. "No use, indeed!" said Mrs. Trescott. "You silly child, don't you suppose I have had my eyes open for the last six months and more, while John Caswell has been coming and going about the house? No, indeed. And if I had not known John to be a good, steady young man, in every way worthy of you, do you think I would have allowed matters to go so far without at least trying to keep you from throwing yourself away?"