"If we've got so few, it's a pity not to take more care of those we have," grumbled Audrey, "this really is not fit to use, but I suppose I must." When she began to collect the china, the cup, as usual, had a smear on it, and the plate was not clean. "I had better wash it all, I suppose, as usual!" she thought impatiently, and banged open the tea-towel drawer with such force that Joan started out of her sleep. "I'd have got the tray ready, if you'd left it, Miss Audrey," said Mary shortly. "I wanted to make it look nice and tempting." Poor Faith grew to look harassed and miserable. Whatever happened, she did not want a collision between Audrey and Mary. Mary was rough, and not thorough, but she was good-tempered, hard-working, and ready to turn her hand to anything. Mr. Carlyle came into the kitchen. "Is breakfast nearly ready?" he asked, "it is nine o'clock, and I have a full day before me--why, Baby! what is the matter?" He stood looking down at his two flushed daughters, while Faith explained. "But I think she is better," she concluded eagerly, "look, daddy, she is smiling at you! If we are careful all day, I daresay she will be well to-morrow." "And do you intend to sit by that fire all day with her! Why, you will be a cinder." Faith laughed, "I am rather hot, but it has done her good, I am sure--at least the hot bath and the heat has. Mary thought of it, wasn't it clever of her?" "I will take her presently, Miss Faith, while you have your breakfast," said Mary, much gratified by the little compliment. Mr. Carlyle went over to where Audrey stood arranging a few flowers on her mother's tray. "How dainty!" he said approvingly, "your mother will appreciate that, dear. She loves pretty, dainty things about her. I am going over to Abbot's Field to-day," he added, "and I thought I would call on Mrs. Vivian, and the old gentleman. Will you come with me, to represent your mother? I think it would be rather pleasant, don't you?" Audrey coloured with embarrassment. To her the prospect did not seem at all pleasant. "I--I am afraid I can't, father. I have a lot to do at home." Her mind was full of plans for tidying house and garden, and making everything more presentable. It was a big undertaking, she knew, but she was full of zeal. Her father looked disappointed. "Oh well, then, I must go alone. I thought you would like to meet the young people again--and I think they still expect you--they were so anxious to see you. But never mind, I will tell them that you are busy, but are hoping to see them over here one day very soon. I had better fix a day; will Thursday do?" "Thursday! so soon!" The suggestion filled her with dismay, but she kept her dismay to herself. "Yes, father, I think so," she said feebly, and lifting up the tray went slowly with it to her mother's room. Debby was sitting on the bed, chattering quite happily, all the temper forgotten.