"Oh no! Drops would do me no good--they would not give me what I want." "What _do_ you want?" "To see my Mother once more, and my Brothers, and my Sisters, and every one at Home. I do pine for them all so, you can't think!" And now she sobbed outright, though quietly. "It seems so long since I came away, and the Prospect before me is so forlorn; no certain Hope of going back; or ever, ever seeing them any more!" "_Gertrude_, I _shall_ get up and give you the Drops. They will give you Strength." "I'm afraid they won't." "Yes, they will. You have over-tired yourself to-day; you are trying to get about too soon. The Drops will quiet you and set you to sleep, and to-morrow you will be better." So I gave her the Drops, which she thankfully took; and in Half-an-hour or so I was glad to find she was asleep. The next Morning, while we were dressing, as she had quite recovered her Composure, I took Advantage of what might be my last Opportunity to question her a little more than I had yet done on her Position at Lady _Betty's_. "Well," says she, "'tis not good to complain, I know, but however, I will this once say Somewhat of my Life behind the Scenes, with as few Notes and Comments as I can. My first Grievance is sleeping with that _Frenchwoman_, a low Person whom it is impossible to like. I wake sooner than she does, and avail myself of it for a little quiet Reading or Needlework on my own Account before she is stirring. But first, I light the Fire in the little Closet beneath my _Lady's_ Chamber, put down the Irons, and warm some Coffee for _Pompon's_ Breakfast and mine, which she takes in an uncomfortable Sort of Way, running in and out half dressed, without ever sitting down, so that my Breakfast is uncomfortable too. Then I have to iron out every individual Thing that Lady _Betty_ took off Overnight, even to her Gloves; and to air her clean Linen. Having then fed her Parrots and cleaned their Cages, (_Pompey_ has the Monkey and Lapdog in Charge,) I sit down to fine Work, and have scarce set a dozen Stitches, when Lady _Betty's_ Bell is pulled as if the Wire would crack, and her High-Heeled Slipper raps the Floor to let me know she is ready for her Chocolate. _Pompey_ brings it up to the Door, and I carry it in, and wait on her while she drinks it. After this, she remains in Bed two Hours, sometimes sleeping, but oftener sitting up propped with Pillows, doing any Fancy-Work she is in the Humour for, getting me to thread her Needle, change her Silks, hold her Scissors, and Sometimes to read a Novel to her. If she is very late, it may chance that one of her female Cronies arrives in her Chair, runs up to tell her some Piece of Gossip, and perhaps rouses her to get up and dress in a Hurry to go to some Auction; in which Case she needs not so much two Waiting Women as twenty. But oftener, she is uninterrupted, and after wasting half the Morning, rises to waste the other half in a lengthened, capricious