Bella began to lose her temper. "Why couldn't Aunt Emma try and make the best of things?" she thought impatiently, "instead of making them all more miserable than they were already. It was very unkind of her, and, after all, it was harder for them than for her;--but it had never been Aunt Emma's way to try and make the best of things." Yet in her inmost heart Miss Hender did not really think the outlook so very black. At any rate, she realised that it was very much brighter than it might have been, if there had been no garden, and the children had not made that little start of their own; and in her own mind she was planning how she would take in a little washing, to help them all along. But poor Aunt Emma's fault was that she would never let people know she saw any brightness in life at all. She was afraid they would not realise how much she suffered, and how much she had to bear. With spirits greatly damped, Tom and Bella walked away out into the garden, and there the sweet fresh autumn air and the sunshine soon cheered them again. "What will there be to take in next week?" asked Bella, glancing about her. "We must carry all we can, for Aunt Emma's sake." "There'll be apples," said Tom, "plenty of them hoarding pears, and cabbages. I wish we had a hand-cart!" he broke out impetuously: "for there's heaps of stuff, potatoes, and turnips, and carrots, if only we could get them to Norton, but what we can carry hardly pays for the time and trouble." "I shall have some early chrysanthemums," said Bella, looking lovingly at her flowers, "and asters, and a few late roses. Oh, I ought to have opened my hotbed," and away she darted, her face full of eagerness. It was only a few days before the accident that she had bought a nice second-hand frame with her earnings, and her father had fixed it for her. It was already full of pots of mignonette seeds and fairy-roses, cyclamen and lilies of the valley, which she was hoping to bring on to sell through the winter, when flowers would be scarce. For once Tom stood by, and paid no heed. He was absorbed in a new idea that had come to him. "Bella," he said at last, "do you know what I've a good mind to do?" Bella could see from his face that, whatever it was, he was pleased and excited about it, so she was prepared to back him up. "What is it? Do tell!" "I've a good mind to ask old Mrs. Wintle to let us have her donkey and cart on Saturday; then we could carry in potatoes and vegetables enough to make it worth while." "Wouldn't she charge a lot?" asked Bella doubtfully. "Doesn't she ask half-a-crown a day and his food? That would be a lot out of what we make, and Aunt Emma would grumble like anything!"