Barbara’s face flushed. She was so weary that she lost the dignity to which she had been clinging desperately all day. “Yes, I am tired!” she burst out. “I worked all the morning before you came. Besides, it’s absurd to fly around like this, trying to do everything at once. My time is too valuable to waste so much of it upon such things as these.” A queer expression settled upon the features of Mrs. Harris. She looked amused, indulgent, and vastly superior. “Your time too valuable?” she said slowly and calmly; “your time too valuable? Well, young lady, I don’t know jest what things you’ve got to do besides taking care of your brothers and your sister, but I reckon there ain’t nothing better.” Barbara drew a long breath of anger and walked away. * * * * * “It wouldn’t be so bad,” she said ruefully to her father, a few days later, “if only she didn’t assume all the powers and prerogatives of a sovereign. But she has actually reduced the children to the most subdued state you can imagine. Jack never ravages the pantry now, since Mrs. Harris caught him that first afternoon, and asked him kindly if he would mind leaving enough for the rest of us. Even Gassy never answers her saucily, and David goes about the house like a crushed piece of nothing. And yet she isn’t a bit cross or unkind. It’s something in her manner that admits of no disputation. Jack has named her the Duchess, and it just suits her.” The Doctor laughed. “You mustn’t allow yourself to be so easily impressed, my dear,” he said. “I notice, however, that she takes a great deal of responsibility off your hands, and that ought to reconcile you to any drawbacks. I have just sent word to Mrs. Harris to have dinner at one instead of twelve, as I shall be busy at the office, and can’t get away so soon.” The words were scarcely out of his mouth when they saw David returning down the hall in haste, followed by a tall figure advancing with majestic tread. The doctor coughed uneasily. “Dr. Grafton!” proclaimed the Duchess; “David says as ’ow you wants the dinner put off till one!” There was an accent of such injury in her voice that the Doctor found himself saying hastily:— “Why, yes, Mrs. Harris, I did send that message, but—” “I thought it best to tell you as ’ow it can’t be done,” replied the Duchess, with finality, turning to depart. Dr. Grafton caught the smile on Barbara’s face. “What’s that?” he said peremptorily; “can’t be done? Why not?” The Duchess turned back with surprise written in her large, serene countenance. “Why not? Why not?” she repeated. “Why, because it ain’t convenient to change, sir.” Dr. Grafton found himself following her down the hall. “I’m going to be very busy and can’t get away,” he said apologetically. “Perhaps half-past twelve—” The Duchess turned again, and contemplated him calmly. “Any reason why the rest must wait for you?” she inquired with uplifted eyebrows. “Why, no,” said the Doctor.