"I don't know that I shouldn't like a little bit of it myself," replied Ethel. "You should hear how the people talk of her in the town. They don't think anything at all of the Carters, I can tell you." "You have never explained what happened during your visit yesterday," said Molly. Marcia was passing the window. She looked in. "It's time you went to mother, Ethel," she said. Ethel rose with a crimson face. "Hateful old prig!" she said. "There, girls, I can't tell you now. I'm in for a jolly time, and you'll be amusing yourselves in the garden, and she'll amuse herself." "Well, you can think of me to-morrow," said Nesta, "giving up my walk with Florrie Griffiths. That's what I call hard, and you and Ethel will have a jolly afternoon all to yourselves, and a jolly morning to-morrow. It's I who am to be pitied. I don't think I can stand it. I think I'll run away." "Don't be a goose, Netty. You know you'll have to bear the burden as well as Miss Mule Selfish." "Oh, what a funny name," said Nesta, laughing. "Do let us call her Mule Selfish. It does sound so funny." Ethel, having propounded this remarkable specimen of wit, went upstairs, considerably satisfied with herself. Her post that morning was no sinecure. Mrs Aldworth was in a terrible temper, and she was really weak and ill, too. It was one of her worst days. Ethel, always clumsy, was more so than usual. The sun poured in through the open window, and when the doctor arrived he was not pleased with the appearance of the room, and told Ethel so sharply. "You are a very bad nurse," he said, "for all the training you've had. Now don't allow that blind to be in such a condition a moment longer. Get one of the servants to come and mend it. I am exceedingly annoyed to see your mother in such an uncomfortable condition." Ethel was forced to go off in search of a servant. The blind was mended after a fashion; the invalid was pitied by the doctor, who ordered a fresh tonic for her. So the weary hours flew by, and at last Ethel's task was over. She rushed downstairs. The load was lifted from her mind; she was free for a bit. She immediately asked Molly how they might spend the afternoon. Lunch was on the table and Marcia appeared. Marcia spoke to the young lady. "How is mother?" "I don't know," said Ethel. "You don't know? But you have been with her all the morning." "The doctor called; you had better ask him." "She will turn at that. I would like to catch her in a rage," thought Ethel. Marcia did not turn. She guessed what was passing through her young sister's mind. It would pass presently. They would take the discipline she was bringing them through presently. She was sorry for them; she loved them very dearly; but give them an indulgent life to the detriment of their characters, and to her own misery, she would not. By-and-by lunch came to an end, and then Marcia rose. "Now, you go to your imprisonment," thought Molly.