"Nonsense! Their nurse is here. Now, I tell you, once for all, you shall go on exactly as if we were miles away. You say you are going to give each a picture at Christmas; and how are you going to do it if you let everybody hinder you?" "I don't call Pug and Trot, 'everybody;' I can't do any more work to-day, anyhow." "Well, you can to-morrow, for I am going to the Astor Library." "To the Astor Library? What for?" "I have a sudden thirst for information before I begin my book." "Your book for mothers? Oh, Laura, the idea of going to the Astor Library about that!" "Oh, that scheme fell through." "What a pity! It was such an original one." "So is sin. But one has to get rid of it." "Did you write nothing at all?" "I wrote a little bit. I'll show it to you when my trunk comes. I thought it was a capital idea, and was going to make mamma write a preface for it. How is she, anyhow?" "Very well, if one may judge by her actions." "I suppose that means being at everybody's beck and call." "Yes; first, she had me to nurse, and then she went on a pilgrimage to a family of strangers." "People she knew nothing about?" "She knew they were in great trouble, and judged, by the letter they sent her, that they were respectable, more or less educated people." "Here comes the dear old thing, skipping like a young roe!" cried Laura, who had been to the window half a dozen times. "Now Pug and Trot--goodness! what _have_ they been about while we were talking?" Sure enough, what had they been about. Each, armed with a brush, had been daubing away at Margaret's canvas--their hands, faces, and dresses all colors. "Oh, Margaret! they've ruined your picture!" cried Laura, in dismay. "Oh, Laura! they've ruined their dresses!" cried Margaret; at the same time her enthusiasm about the children cooled down not a little. Here was a week's work destroyed. Meantime, Mrs. Grey entered on this scene of dismay, and she and Laura were too glad to see each other to pay much heed to the children. Margaret rushed off after a bottle of turpentine, and old Mary, and Laura's nurse; and between them all, and a bowl of soap-suds, decency was restored, and the little ones made presentable, though not fragrant. The unexpected scrubbing, and a faint sense that they had been in mischief, gave them a somewhat awe-stricken look, which gave way, when grandma kissed them, to relieved smiles. "It's all my fault," said Laura. "I ought to have warned you that these creatures are always up to something. How much harm have they done to the picture?" "Oh, never mind the picture," said Margaret, who was herself minding it a good deal, but was trying to wrench her heart back to the little culprits. "I am delighted to have you come home, Laura," said her mother. "You look worn out."