"Ah, you will think differently, wife, when the Wallaces and Pinkertons get here. It will be no trifling affair to play the parts of lady and housemaid, hostess and table-girl, with so many visitors on your hands." Mrs. Harding, however, kept up good courage. The expected guests, some eight or ten, including the babies, arrived. By making extra preparations before their arrival, she managed to get along comfortably for a few days; but the cake and tarts could not always last where there were so many mouths, the house would not keep in order, and the care and labor of meeting the wants of her large family pressed every day, she thought, with greater weight upon her. "I can tell you, Ellen, I will not consent to this another day," said Mr. Harding to his wife, as he met her burning face one day in the kitchen, just as dinner was ready for the table. "Why, you look as if you had baked yourself as well as the mutton," he added, laughing. "Pray, how will you help it, my dear?" asked Mrs. Harding. "I will go myself for help. I do believe I can find somebody who can tend the roast and wash the dishes." "Don't be too positive, Mr. Harding; remember your good wife's experience," interposed Mrs. Pinkerton, with an arch shake of the finger and a roguish twinkle of the eye. "Well, one thing is certain," replied Mr. Harding, laughing, "I shall not come back till I find one, extraordinaries excepted. So, when you see me driving up, you will see some one else." Old Dobbin was duly harnessed next morning, and Mr. Harding, full of hope, started off "bright and early," while the whole family, guests and all, ran down to the gate to wish him success and a pleasant ride. One, two, three days passed, but he did not return, and Mrs. Harding began to cast uneasy glances down the street, and to watch and listen every time she heard carriage-wheels. "He will be as good as his word, Ellen," said her sister, Mrs. Pinkerton. "When he does come, you will have help; that is a comfort." "Perhaps," cried little Anna Pinkerton, "he cannot find a girl, and then he will never come back." Just then, however, a step was heard in the hall, and the next moment the parlor door was darkened by his tall form. There he stood, but alone. "Where is your girl?" asked Mrs. Harding, anxiously. "I left her to come in the cars. She will be here in three days." "Oh, did you get one, then?" asked his wife and two or three others, in a breath. "To be sure I did; but I had hard enough work to find her. My experience was almost as romantic as yours, wife." "Do give us your history," said Mrs. Pinkerton, after Mr. Harding was settled, and quietly sipping his tea.