She had got a habit of whining and crooning over them, of which she was unconscious, in fact she was not conscious of any of her defects. Frank had always said his wife must be amiable, and in one sense Lily was so; but she had not strength of character enough to get angry on, and in her ill-ordered household she was beginning to grow, not morose, not crusty, but nervously peevish. Mrs. Grey kept congratulating herself that she had come to see all these evils, and then kept asking herself what she was going to do about it. She concluded, at last, to begin on a very small matter. "Lily, dear, do not let my being here confine you to me. You must be wanting to use this delightful weather for your spring shopping." "There isn't any hurry about that." "You know hot weather may be upon us any day. I have written to Laura to do Margaret's shopping for her at once." "I don't think it will be hot. I hate to have to see to dress-making." "I'm afraid Frank keeps you low in funds." "He gives me all I want." "Wouldn't it be well, then, to dress the children a little better?" "I thought you believed in dressing them simply." "I do. But they need not be shabby, dear." "It is a great deal of trouble to keep them looking nice. Frank and Cyril get holes in their knees the first thing I know; and the girls tear and stain their dresses so that I can't keep them looking decent." "Well, I shouldn't mind doing the spring shopping for you," said Mrs. Grey, briskly. She hated shopping, cordially; but these ragged children must be taken in hand by somebody. "Shouldn't you mind it, really?" asked Lily, brightening a little. "It tires me to go out, I go so seldom. And I wish you would take the children in hand, as well as their wardrobes. I can't do anything with them." "Nor can I do much in the little time I am here. But if you will try not to be hurt, I will make a suggestion to you. These turbulent boys are too much for you, and are wearing your nerves all out. They would be better off away from home, provided you could find just the right place for them. And, if you and Frank think best, I will take Gabrielle home with me, and see what I can make of her." "Would you, really? What a relief it would be! She and Annabelle torment me and each other. Frank does not see enough of the children to know how they behave. He makes them obey him, and on Sundays does the best he can for them; but somehow our home isn't peaceful and pleasant, though I have such a good disposition, and am never angry with the children." "Frank is not confined to his business all day; could he not contrive to look after the children more?"