“Oh, yes, you may be sure George would get off it if he could. He’s always in the stable. As I tell him, he fair stinks of horses. He’s not that fond of the children, I can tell you. Come on, my pet—why, come to its mammy.” She took the baby and kissed it passionately, and made extravagant love to it. A clean shaven young man with thick bare arms went across the yard. “Here, just look and tell George as tea is ready,” said Meg. “Where is he?” asked Oswald, the sturdy youth who attended to the farm business. “You know where to find him,” replied Meg, with that careless freedom which was so subtly derogatory to her husband. George came hurrying from the out-building. “What, is it tea already?” he said. “It’s a wonder you haven’t been crying out for it this last hour,” said Meg. “It’s a marvel you’ve got dressed so quick,” he replied. “Oh, is it?” she answered—“well, it’s not with any of your help that I’ve done it, that is a fact. Where’s Teenie?” The maid, short, stiffly built, very dark and sullen looking, came forward from the gate. “Can you take Alfy as well, just while we have tea?” she asked. Teenie replied that she should think she could, whereupon she was given the ruddy-haired baby, as well as the dark one. She sat with them on a seat at the end of the yard. We proceeded to tea. It was a very great spread. There were hot cakes, three or four kinds of cold cakes, tinned apricots, jellies, tinned lobster, and trifles in the way of jam, cream, and rum. “I don’t know what those cakes are like,” said Meg. “I made them in such a fluster. Really, you have to do things as best you can when you’ve got children—especially when there’s two. I never seem to have time to do my hair up even—look at it now.” She put up her hands to her head, and I could not help noticing how grimy and rough were her nails. The tea was going on pleasantly when one of the babies began to cry. Teenie bent over it crooning gruffly. I leaned back and looked out of the door to watch her. I thought of the girl in Tchekoff’s story, who smothered her charge, and I hoped the grim Teenie would not be driven to such desperation. The other child joined in this chorus. Teenie rose from her seat and walked about the yard, gruffly trying to soothe the twins. “It’s a funny thing, but whenever anybody comes they’re sure to be cross,” said Meg, beginning to simmer. “They’re no different from ordinary,” said George, “it’s only that you’re forced to notice it then.” “No, it is not!” cried Meg in a sudden passion: “Is it now, Emily? Of course, he has to say something! Weren’t they as good as gold this morning, Emily?—and yesterday!—why they never murmured, as good as gold they were. But he wants them to be as dumb as fishes: he’d like them shutting up in a box as soon as they make a bit of noise.” “I was not saying anything about it,” he replied. “Yes, you were,” she retorted. “I don’t know what you call it then——” The babies outside continued to cry.