It was not until Mr. Bunker had come from the store, and been duly astonished and delighted at his aunt's unexpected arrival, and the tidy appearance of the whole household--to tell the truth, he wondered how the last happened to be so--that Mrs. Bunker found time to seek an explanation of the significant sentence applied by the old lady to her state of despondency with regard to domestic affairs. Significant she was convinced, though she could not exactly make out the application, as her aunt had seen the mutton chops destined for dinner arrive from the butcher's, and she had never heard of mustard being taken with them. They had been duly served, praised, and eaten; the dinner dishes were washed and put away, so was the baby for his second diurnal nap, and Mrs. Bunker, notwithstanding she had company, found herself seated to her sewing by three o'clock for the first in a month, while Jane, like the unfortunate "maid" mentioned in one of the baby's favorite lullabies, was "In the garden Hanging out the clothes." Aunt Lovey, looking thoughtfully over her spectacles, thought her nephew's description of his wife not so far out of the way after all, as she hemmed away industriously at a pile of new towels, the most fascinating work next to crochet one can undertake; it slips by so fast and evenly, and there seems to be so much accomplished. "But, Aunt Lovey," said Mrs. Bunker, looking up suddenly, and finding those penetrating gray eyes fixed on her, "what did you mean by 'mustard to mix?'" "Oh, I did not explain, did I? Well, when I was first married and moved out west--Utica was out west then, from Connecticut--I knew no more about managing for myself than you do now. I used to find my work accumulate, and I would get discouraged and go about a whole week, feeling as if the world rested upon my shoulders; and that made me mope, and your uncle John got discouraged, because I did, and there was no end of the snarl things would get into. Our only near neighbor was a nice tidy body, who always looked like wax-work." "Something such a person as you," interrupted Mrs. Bunker, playfully. "Well, perhaps so; but you never saw my house; her house was like a pin from one end to the other. One day I just ran in to borrow a little meal--ours had given out unexpectedly--and I found my good neighbor in a flurry, acting just as I used to feel sometimes." "'Oh, she had _everything_ to do,' she said, 'and company coming to dinner.' "'Everything? Well, what? As far as I could see, everything was done.' "'Oh, the table's to set;' and up and around the room she went again. "'But it was two hours to dinner--what else?' "'Why!--well, then, _mustard to mix_!'