Rymer reposed, Miss Shepperson read to the children. She it was who--the
servant being out--prepared tea. After tea, Mr. and Mrs. Rymer, with many
apologies, left the home together for a couple of hours, being absolutely
obliged to pay a call at some distance, and Miss Shepperson again took care
of the children till the domestic returned.

After breakfast the next day--it was a very plain meal, merely a rasher and
dry toast--the lady of the house chatted with her friend more
confidentially than ever. Their servant, she said, a good girl but not very
robust, naturally could not do all the work of the house, and, by way of
helping, Mrs. Rymer was accustomed to 'see to' her own bedroom.

'It's really no hardship,' she said, in her graceful, sweet-tempered way,
'when once you're used to it; in fact, I think the exercise is good for my
health. But, of course, I couldn't think of asking _you_ to do the same. No
doubt you will like to have a breath of air, as the sky seems clearing.'

What could Miss Shepperson do but protest that to put her own room in order
was such a trifling matter that they need not speak of it another moment.
Mrs. Rymer was confused, vexed, and wished she had not said a word; but the
other made a joke of these scruples.

'When do the children go out?' asked Miss Shepperson. 'Do you take them
yourself?'

'Oh, always! almost always! I shall go out with them for an hour at eleven.
And yet'--she checked herself, with a look of worry--'oh, dear me! I must
absolutely go shopping, and I do so dislike to take the tots in that
direction. Never mind; the walk must be put off till the afternoon. It
_may_ rain; but--'