Richard and Ethel were arranging the 'sick albums' which they had constructed--one of cheap religious prints, with texts and hymns, to be lent in cases of lingering illness; the other, commonly called the 'profane,' of such scraps as might please a sick child, pictures from worn-out books or advertisements, which Ethel was colouring--Aubrey volunteering aid that was received rather distrustfully, as his love of effect caused him to array the model school-children in colours gaudy enough, as Gertrude complained, 'to corrupt a saint.' Nor was his dilettante help more appreciated at a small stand, well provided with tiny drawers, and holding a shaded lamp, according to Gertrude, 'burning something horrible ending in gen, that would kill anybody but Tom, who managed it,' but which threw a beautiful light upon the various glass dishes, tubes, and slides, and the tall brass microscope that Tom was said to love better than all his kith and kin, and which afforded him occupation for his leisure moments. 'I say, Harry,' he asked, 'did you get my letter?' 'Your letter--of what date? I got none since Mary's of the second of May, when every one was down in the fever. Poor old Ward, I never was more shocked; what is become of the young ones?' 'Oh! you must ask Mary, Miss Ward is a bosom friend of hers.' 'What! the girl that sang like the lark? I must hear her again. But she won't be in tune for singing now, poor thing! What are they doing? Henry Ward taken to the practice? He used to be the dirtiest little sneak going, but I hope he is mended now.' 'Ask my father,' said mischievous Tom; and Dr. May answered not, nor revealed his day's annoyance with Henry. 'He is doing his best to make a home for his brother and sisters,' said Richard. 'My letter,' said Tom, 'was written in Whitsun week; I wish you had had it.' 'Ay, it would have been precious from its rarity,' said Harry. 'What commission did it contain, may I ask?' 'You have not by good luck brought me home a Chinese flea?' 'He has all the fleas in creation,' said Daisy confidentially, 'cats' and dogs', and hedgehogs', and human; and you would have been twice as welcome if you had brought one.' 'I've brought no present to nobody. I'd got my eye on a splendid ivory junk, for Blanche's wedding present, at Canton, but I couldn't even speak to send any one after it. You have uncommon bad luck for a sailor's relatives.' 'As long as you bring yourself home we don't care,' said Blanche, treating the loss of the junk with far more resignation than did Tom that of the flea. 'If you only had a morsel of river mud sticking anywhere,' added Tom, 'you don't know the value the infusoria might be.' 'I had a good deal more than a morsel sticking to me once,' said Harry; 'it was owing to my boat's crew that I am not ever so many feet deep in it now, like many better men. They never lost sight of me, and somehow hauled me out.'