"Life is either a mill-pond or a whirlpool," she said, rather sententiously: "we have been stagnant for three days, and I begin to feel flat. Races are tabooed: besides, we cannot always leave mother alone. I propose we go out in the garden and have a game of battledore and shuttlecock;" for this had been a winter pastime with them at the cottage. Nan, who was always rather sober-minded now, demurred to this. She would have preferred gardening a little, or sitting quietly with her mother under the mulberry-tree; but Phillis, who was in a wild mood, overruled all her objections, and by and by the battle began, and the shuttlecocks flew through the air. The week's work was finished, and the three dresses lay in their wrappers, waiting for Dorothy to convey them to their several owners. Nan who was really an _artiste_ at heart, had called her mother proudly into the room to admire the result of their labors. Mrs. Challoner was far too accustomed to her daughter's skilfulness to testify any surprise, but she at once pronounced Miss Drummond's dress the _chef-d'oeuvre_. Nan's taste was faultless; and the trimmings she had selected harmonized so well with the soft tints of the silk. "They are all very nice; and Mrs. Trimmings will be charmed with her blue silk," observed Mrs. Challoner, trying to throw a little interest into her voice, and to suppress a sigh; and then she helped Nan to adjust the wrappers, and to pin the neatly-written bills inside each. "I am sure that is business-like," said Nan, with a satisfied nod, for she never could do anything by halves; and she was so interested in her work that she would have been heart-broken if she thought one of the dresses would be a misfit; and then it was that Phillis, who had been watching her very closely, brightened up and proposed a game. It was a very pretty sight, the mother thought, as she followed her girls' movements; the young figures swayed so gracefully as they skimmed hither and thither over the lawn with light butterfly movements, the three eager faces upturned in the evening light, their heads held well back. "Two hundred, two hundred and one, two hundred and two--don't let it drop, Dulce!" panted Phillis, breathlessly. "Oh, my darlings, don't tire yourselves!" exclaimed Mrs. Challoner, as her eyes followed the white flutter of the shuttlecocks. This was the picture that Mr. Drummond surveyed. Dorothy, who was just starting on her round, and was in no mood for her errand, had admitted him somewhat churlishly. "Yes, the mistress and the young ladies were in; and would he step into the parlor, as her hands were full?" "Oh, yes, I know the way," Mr. Drummond had returned, quite undaunted by the old woman's sour looks.