“Not now; there won’t be time to feed all the creatures, or to get nurse’s Sunday nosegays, if you don’t begin.” Then, coming up to her guest, she said, “Now is your time, Mary; we shall have the Rays and Mr. Hughes in presently; but you see we are too worldly and profane for the Kencroft boys on Sunday; and so they make experiments in smoking, with company less desirable, I must say, than Sir Harry Lee’s. Am I very bad to read what keeps mine round me?” “Is it an old fashion with you?” “Well, no; but then we had what was better than a thousand stories! And this is only a feeble attempt to keep up a little watery reflection of the old sunshine.” It was a watery reflection indeed! “And could it not be with something that would be--” “Dull and goody?” put in Carey. “No, no, my dear, that would be utterly futile. You can’t catch my birds without salt. Can we, Polly?” To which the popinjay responded, “We are all Mother Carey’s chickens.” “I did mean salt--very real salt,” said Mary, rather sadly. “I have not got the recipe;” said Carey. “Indeed I do try to do what must be done. My boys can hold their own in Bible and Catechism questions! Ask your brother if they can’t. And Army is a dear little fellow, with a bit of the angel, or of his father, in him; but when we’ve done our church, I see no good in decorous boredom; and if I did, what would become of the boys?” “I don’t agree to the necessity of boredom,” said Mary; “but let that pass. There are things I wanted to say.” “I knew it was coming. The Colonel has been at me already, levelling his thunders at my devoted head. Won’t that do?” “Not if you heed him so little.” “My dear, if I heeded, I should be annihilated. When he says ‘My good little sister,’ I know he means ‘You little idiot;’ so if I did not think of something else, what might not be the consequence? Why, he said I was not behaving decently!” “No more you are.” “And that I had no proper feeling,” continued she, laughing almost hysterically. “No one can wonder at his being pained. It ought never to have happened.” “Are you gone over to Mrs. Grundy? However, there’s this comfort, you’ll not mention Mrs. Coffinkey’s sister-in-law.” “I’m sure the Colonel didn’t!” “Ellen does though, with tragic effect.” “You are not like yourself, Carey.” “No, indeed I’m not! I was a happy creature a little while ago; or was it a very long, long time ago? Then I had everybody to help me and make much of me! And now I’ve got into a great dull mist, and am always knocking my head against something or somebody; and when I try to keep up the old friendships and kindnesses--poor little fragments as they are--everybody falls upon me, even you, Mary.” “Pardon me, dearest. Some friendships and kindnesses that were once admirable, may be less suitable to your present circumstances.”