After a minute or two of silent expectation, Mrs Rowland entered her mother's room. She brought with her a draught of wintry air, which, as she jerked aside her ample silk cloak, on taking her seat on the sofa, seemed to chill the invalid, though there was now a patch of colour on each withered cheek. "How much better you look, ma'am!" was the daughter's greeting. "I always thought it would be a pity to disturb Philip about you: and now, if he were to see you, he would not believe that you had been ill. Mr Rowland would be satisfied that I am right, I am sure, if he were to come in." "My mistress is noways better," said Phoebe, bluntly. "She is not the better for that flush she has got now, but the worse." "Never mind, Phoebe! I shall do very well, I dare say," said Mrs Enderby, with a sigh. "Well, my dear, how do you all go on at home?" "Much as usual, ma'am. But that reminds me--Matilda, my own love, Miss Young must be wanting you for your lesson on objects. Go, my dear." "I hoped Matilda was come for the day," said Mrs Enderby. "I quite expected she was to stay with me to-day. Do let me have her, my dear: it will do me so much good." "You are very kind, ma'am, but it is quite impossible. It is totally out of the question, I assure you. Matilda, my love, go this instant. We make a great point of the lessons on objects. Pray, Phoebe, tie Miss Rowland's bonnet, and make haste." Phoebe did so, taking leave to observe that little girls were likely to live long enough to know plenty of things after they had no grandmammas left to be a comfort to. Mrs Enderby struggled to say, "Hush, Phoebe;" but she found she could not speak. George was desired to go with his sister, and was scarcely allowed time to kiss his grandmamma. While Phoebe was taking the children down stairs, Mrs Rowland wondered that some people allowed their servants to take such liberties as were taken; and gave notice that though she tolerated Phoebe, because Phoebe's mistress had taken a fancy to her, she could not allow her family plans to be made a subject of remark to her mother's domestics. Mrs Enderby had not quite decided upon her line of reply, when Phoebe came back, and occupied herself in supplying her mistress, first with a freshly-heated footstool, and then with a cup of arrowroot. "Where do you get your arrowroot, ma'am?" asked Mrs Rowland. "I want some extremely for my poor dear Anna; and I can procure none that is at all to compare with yours." "Mrs Grey was so kind as to send me some, my dear; and it really is excellent. Phoebe, how much of it is there left? I dare say there may be enough for a cup or two for dear little Anna."