The Modern Psyche by Edward Everett Hale

If Edward Ross, or Psyche his wife, or Bim, the nurse of Geoffrey his son, had any hope that Agnes Verney and Priscilla Verney, and Bloody Mary, their sister, would decline the invitation, or that any one of them would decline it, they were very much mistaken. Allowing a day and a half for the letter to go to Painted Post, and a day for the three ladies to pack their trunks, and a day and a half for them to come to Boston, you have four days, which is precisely the interval which passed between the mailing of the letter and the arrival, late at night, of a carriage at Edward Ross's door with the three ladies, and of an express-wagon with the six trunks with which they had prepared for the ten days' visit. This was the night of the 14th, and, as they had been kindly informed by Psyche, their visit must end on the 24th.

And such a visit as it was! Not one day was unprovided for by Edward's forethought, and one amusement after another crowded upon the time, so that, if it were possible, the three ladies might not have a moment's time either for caballing against each other, or for lecturing poor Psyche. It was a little funny to see how, as a matter of course, they all taught her how to carry on her household. They would tell her, to Edward's great amusement and to her well-concealed rage, how to cheapen her mutton, how to keep her butter, how to save eggs in her sponge-cake, and even how to arrange the dishes on the table. Everything was elegant and tasteful in Psyche's house, wholly beyond any standard which they had ever seen at home; but all the same, they would make this suggestion and give that direction, as if, she said to her husband, crying, one morning -- "as if this were poor papa's house, and I were Cinderella again."