"I hate bo'ts," vouchsafed the help, and crossing to the windows slammed them down, after which she resumed her position against the wall while Linda served herself with oatmeal. "There's coffee and rolls and eggs," shouted Blanche Aurora after half a minute of dead silence during which the clock ticked. Linda jumped again. The help was so very responsible and so clean and wiry that she smiled as she lifted her eyes. "I've got an hourglass and you're to tell me when you want 'em put on." "What?" "The eggs; they're good and fresh. Luella Benslow's hens laid 'em." "Are those the hens Aunt Belinda has gone to see?" "Yes; Mis' Porter wanted to see the hens that have hot-water bags." Linda kept on smiling. "Dear me!" she said. "What is your name, please?" "Blanche Aurora Martin," came the prompt report; "but you don't have to say the Martin. It's Blanche Aurora for short." "I see; and I am Miss Barry." "Yes, I know," was the prompt reply; "but I made up my mind to call you Miss Belinda 'cause if there was two Miss Barrys, I couldn't stand it." "Really? Very well; but what did you mean about hens with hot-water bags?" "Why, Luella puts 'em in every nest when it comes cold, and Mis' Porter, she laughed and laughed when she heard about it; Luella's some slack about lots o' things, but she's got real good ideas about helpin' the hens along and Mis' Porter wanted Miss Barry should take her over and see 'em." Blanche Aurora's sharp gaze noted the guest's languid appetite as evinced by the slight diminution of the oatmeal. "The eggs is real good," she continued, "and I've got an hourglass." Linda lifted her somber eyes and showed the tips of her white teeth again. "I hope you don't boil them an hour, Blanche Aurora?" It wasn't very often that Miss Barry's maid was offered a joke, but the relaxing of her thin cheeks now showed that she could take one. "No danger!" she returned smartly. But the suggestion of eggs, even those laid luxuriously in the proximity of a hot-water bag, could not tempt the pale guest this morning. "Coffee and toast sound very good," she said. "No eggs this morning, I think." "Hev it your own way," returned the help; "we cal'late to give you what you want," and at once she attacked the swing door. The little creature's sudden energy of motion after absolute repose was like her stentorian tones breaking dead silence. When coffee and toast were set before the guest, Blanche Aurora again supported the wall and watched her charge with an unremitting stare. "You don't need to wait," said Linda. "I druther," returned Blanche Aurora with a finality which admitted of no argument. The guest followed the line of least resistance. "Is Mrs.---- is the hen lady one of your neighbors?" "Luella Benslow? Yes, she and her father. Her father's a wonderful man--Luella's father is." "What does he do?"