It _did_ occasionally cross Ruth's mind as she lay, almost fainting with exhaustion, on the pillow, while the ravenous little Daisy cried, "give, give," whether it took Mrs. Jiff two hours to make _one_ cup of tea, and brown _one_ slice of toast; Mrs. Jiff solacing herself, meanwhile, over an omelette in the kitchen, with Betty, and pouring into her ready ears whole histories of "gen'lemen as wasn't gen'lemen, whose ladies she nursed," and how "nobody but herself knew how late they _did_ come home when their wives were sick, though, to be sure, she'd scorn to tell of it!" Sometimes, also, Ruth innocently wondered if it was necessary for the nurse to occupy the same bed with "her lady;" particularly when her circumference was as Behemoth-ish, and her nose as musical as Mrs. Jiff's; and whether there would be any impropriety in her asking her to take the babe and keep it quiet _part_ of the night, that she might occasionally get a nap. Sometimes, too, she considered the feasibility of requesting Mrs. Jiff not to select the time when she (Ruth) was sipping her chocolate, to comb out her "false front," and polish up her artificial teeth; and sometimes she marvelled why, when Mrs. Jiff paid such endless visits to the kitchen, she was always as fixed as the North Star, whenever dear Harry came in to her chamber to have a conjugal chat with her. CHAPTER IX. "How do you do this morning, Ruth?" said the old lady, lowering herself gradually into a softly-cushioned arm chair. "How your sickness _has_ altered you! You look like a ghost? I shouldn't wonder if you lost all your hair; it is no uncommon thing in sickness; or your teeth either. How's the baby? She don't favor our side of the house at all. She is quite a plain child, in fact. Has she any symptoms, yet, of a sore mouth? I hope not, because she will communicate it to your breast, and then you'll have a time of it. I knew a poor, feeble thing once, who died of it. Of course, you intend, when Mrs. Jiff leaves, to take care of the baby yourself; a nursery girl would be very expensive." "I believe Harry has already engaged one," said Ruth. "I don't think he has," said the old lady, sitting up very straight, "because it was only this morning that the doctor and I figured up the expense it would be to you, and we unanimously came to the conclusion to tell Harry that you'd better take care of the child yourself. I always took care of my babies. You oughtn't to have mentioned a nursery girl, at all, to Harry." "He proposed it himself," replied Ruth; "he said I was too feeble to have the care of the child."