"That's easy, ma'am," said Scotch Mr. Donald. "I'll fix a part of the house here and you can plant what you want in it"; and after that many mornings found Drusilla pottering happily around the conservatory with a trowel, planting seeds or "slipping" plants as she called it. It gave her something to do, and that was the one thing she needed. She missed the active life, the "doing something." Everything was done for her--she had no duties. She, who had passed her life in service for others, here had only to mention a wish and it was immediately carried out. She was not allowed even to look after her clothing. As soon as an article was removed it was whisked out of the room and when returned was brushed, mended, and ready for use again. One afternoon Drusilla sat down by the window to mend a tear on the bottom of her skirt. Jeanne, coming into the room, quickly took the garment from her. "Madame, she must not do that. _Quelle horreur!_ I will attend to it at once." Drusilla laughed. "Can't I even patch my dress?" she said. "Jane, where are my stockin's? I am sure there must be some darnin'." Jeanne looked at her reproachfully. "Madame does not wear darned stockings." "Stuff and nonsense!" said Drusilla. "Why shouldn't I wear darned stockin's?" "Yes, but it would not be _au fait_ for Madame to wear darned stockings." Drusilla became a little angry. "How foolish you are, Jane! I've wore darned stockin's all my life. A few darns don't hurt one way or another. What becomes of my stockin's? I saw a hole in one the other day." Jeanne looked a little embarrassed. "Why--why--when they become not _convenable_ for Madame, I--I take them." "Oh," said shrewd Drusilla, looking at Jeanne over her glasses. "And I presume you are the judge of when they become '_convenable_'--whatever that means. But you'd better let me tell you when I think they're ready to be passed on." Drusilla sat back in the chair with folded hands for a few moments; then she looked down at them as they lay idly in her lap. "I don't see what I'm goin' to do with my hands. I've always had a work-basket by my side whenever I set down, and now you just expect me to set. Well, I'm tired of it; I want to _do_ something."