The fragments of the golden bowl, to use Clara’s figure, could not be patched together, and at last Mrs. Forest gave up all hope, and took refuge in the consolations of religion, in a saintly, aggravating way that was hard to witness. Whenever Clara proposed any change in her own life, or even suggested anything for the comfort of the family, the answer was invariably and with a martyr-like sigh of resignation, “Do anything you like. I have no preference.” Therefore, as the autumn advanced, Clara spent more and more time with Mrs. Buzzell and Susie. One day the old lady said to Clara, “You had better come here and live. Leila and Linnie are with your mother, and she does not need you. I am really beginning to fear, now I am getting so old, that Min will be neglected. Susie is perfectly absorbed with her potting, and rooting, and slipping, and re-potting, and really she ought not to have any other responsibilities. She used to help Mary a great deal, but now Mary herself is bewitched, and likes nothing so well as ‘flower-work,’ as she calls it. I expect nothing but that she will abandon the cooking and washing, and take permanently to potting and rooting. If you were here, you could keep Mary out of the clutches of that conservatory. Min will be the next victim,” said Mrs. Buzzell, laughing. “This morning I found her ‘helping mamma,’ as she said, and Susie declared she was doing good service. This consisted in filling up small pots with soil. The implement used, I noticed, was my big iron kitchen spoon; but I said nothing. When I see a woman seriously working to gain an independent position, I am always delighted. I never spent any money in my life that brought me such pleasure as that which I invested in that hot-house; and I’m going to do more, Clara, but, you understand, that is a secret.” “You have already proved yourself a noble friend to Susie,” said Clara, warmly. “Oh, she’s done more for me than I ever did for her. I have not had a moment’s loneliness since she came, and my health has been better. Min, too, is a great pleasure to me. Though the little rat will pull my work-basket about, I notice she never touches a leaf or flower of Susie’s plants, and it wouldn’t be healthy for her to do so, I suspect,” Mrs. Buzzell added, smiling. “It is wonderful,” said Clara, “that Susie has acquired such a knowledge of flower culture. I don’t even now understand the secret of her success.”