She walked home rather soberly after her little conversation with the Kindergarten mistress. Certainly it strengthened her in the resolutions she had formed and had steadily carried out. But she could not refuse to know that she was living under considerable strain. Her teaching at the Institute was strenuous and exacting. Apart from the mental exertion, she was on her feet all the time. By the time she reached home, she was thoroughly exhausted, and was really fit for nothing but a nap, or at least an afternoon’s repose on the sofa, half dreaming over some simple book. But there could be no such rest for her. For this was the only time when Hugh could have a walk, and so off they went together. She often wondered whether he noticed that she was not quite so lively as she used to be, not so ready for a run, or so good at a game of ball. But a little child takes much on trust. Then they came home to tea, which generally refreshed her considerably. After that, Hugh sat at her side, with his bricks, his picture books, or his “transparent slate,” while she did all the household mending. Jane Smith never put a finger to this, not because she refused to do so, but because when she attempted it on one occasion, she ruined a pair of fine grey woollen hand-knitted stockings, by drawing a slightly-worn heel together with coarse white worsted, showing that she had not the most rudimentary idea of what darning should be. Now this is just the kind of household work for which it would be a waste of time and power to hire help, especially in such a small family. Then as the washing was no longer done at home, Lucy had to prepare the account for the laundry, and to see that the things were sent home correctly, which as they scarcely ever were, led to correspondence and general worry. By the time all these inevitable little tasks were accomplished, it was generally time for Hugh to go to bed. After that Lucy was free. Of course, in the winter nights, painting was impossible. But through the art dealers, Lucy had heard of an opening for pen-and-ink sketches, and it was this eventide that she had hoped to give to this work. She could reckon on about two hours’ solitude, and yet retire to rest early. She soon found out, however, that leisure is of little avail for such pursuits if energies and spirits are exhausted beforehand.