“Lucy my dear, will you have my things in order by twelve o’clock? I must leave home for two days, perhaps longer, if I find the patient I am called to see very ill.” “Yes, yes! I will see to them. What shall I do with the child, William, he is so very fretful? How I wish I had given him the medicine yesterday; he is very troublesome!” “If you think he needs it, give it to him at once;” said her husband abruptly, “and don’t I beg Lucy forget my clothes.” He left the room, and Lucy tried to hush baby to sleep, but baby would not go, then the nurse girl who assisted her could not keep him quiet, and the mother, as she had often been before, became bewildered, and at a loss what to do first. “If you please ma’am what am I to get for dinner?” said the cook, the only servant they kept in the kitchen, putting her head in at the door, and looking round with a half smile, on the littered room, and squalling baby. “Directly, I shall be down directly Betty, I must first get baby to sleep.” “Very well ma’am,” was the reply, and going down an hour afterwards, Mrs. Clifton found Betty with her feet stretched out and her arms folded one over the other, comfortably seated before an open window, intent in watching, and enjoying the movements of every passer-by. “Betty, Betty!” said her mistress angrily, “have you nothing to do, that you sit so idly here?” “I waited for orders, ma’am.” Dinner was an hour back, Lucy assisted for a short time herself, and then went up stairs to arrange Clifton’s clothes. Baby was screaming terribly, and Lucy half terrified did _yesterday’s_ work, by giving him a dose of medicine. So the morning sped on. Clifton came in at the appointed time. “Are my clothes in readiness, Lucy?” She colored with vexation, and shame. “The baby has been very cross; I have not indeed had time. But I will go now.” Clifton went down to his solitary dinner, and when he returned found Lucy busy with her needle; it was evident even to his unskilled eye there was much to be done.