"No, ma'am, 'tis against the rules for people to go out visiting; and sure, as soon as I was well, I wanted to see nothing so much as father, and mother, and home. As soon as I was able, they set me to work, cleaning the place, and helping to wait on other poor creatures who were worse than myself." "Poor girl, that was very hard!" "Oh no, ma'am; I was very glad to be useful, and I was a deal happier than being idle. I missed my worsted-work sadly at first; the time seems so very long when one has nothing to do--nothing but to think, think, think!" Just then Farmer Otley entered. "I say, Lizzy, where are the keys of the cellar? I want to get something to drink for Mr. Hawkins, who is waiting at the door." "Dear Mr. Otley, don't speak so quick; you hurry one. The keys are in my reticule; it is up stairs. Tell Hetty to fetch it." Mr. Otley went after Hetty, and Mrs. Otley remarked, "Poor dear Mr. Otley! his manner is so abrupt! He is not used to an invalid!" "Lizzy, I can't find your bag anywhere. The keys should be in your pocket: feel for them there." "Dear Mr. Otley, you know I do not wear pockets; a reticule is so much more convenient." "Well! but where are the keys? Mr. Hawkins will think I grudge him a glass of ale." "Oh! my love, be patient; you quite make me shake!" and she began in a really nervous trepidation to hunt for the reticule, which was found in her chair. Mrs. Otley and Susan resumed their conversation, when presently the farmer returned. "Lizzy, you have not got a needle and thread handy, have you? I told you I thought this button would soon be off, and so it is." "Oh, dear Mr. Otley, I thought you had told Hetty to sew it on yesterday. Do call her, and tell her to bring my work-box here." The good-natured husband called Hetty, and after some time the needle and thread were found. "Come, look sharp; I must be at the Vestry at three o'clock; and I don't like to be seen with my waistcoat all any how." Mrs. Otley's fingers really trembled as she was sewing on the button. "Why, Lizzy, I have hurried you! I am sorry for that. There, never mind; don't fluster yourself." "You never think of one's nerves, Mr. Otley." "I'll tell you what, Lizzy, if you did not talk about them, or if you did not call them nerves, I should think about them. I see you are not well, and you have got a bad cough, and I must take care of you; so don't fret yourself, but keep quiet. I'll try to see to the things myself, though in-door matters are not in my way: but we must make a shift." "I am sure Mrs. Glover never did all the drudgery poor dear Mr. Otley expects me to do," said Mrs. Otley, when her husband had left them: "I do not think a wife is to be a servant," she continued, with a toss of her head.