"Well, mamma?"

"Ring, and tell them to be getting it in readiness so that when seven
strikes there may be no delay."

"Goodness, mamma! You know they do always have it ready. And there's
no such hurry, for papa may not be at home." But she rose, and rang the
bell with a petulant motion, and when the man answered it, told him to
have tea in to its time.

"If you knew dear, how dry my throat is, how parched my mouth, you would
have more patience with me."

Barbara closed her book with a listless air, and turned listlessly to
the window. She seemed tired, not with fatigue but with what the French
express by the word _ennui_. "Here comes papa," she presently said.

"Oh, I am so glad!" cried poor Mrs. Hare. "Perhaps he will not mind
having the tea in at once, if I told him how thirsty _I_ am."

The justice came in. A middle sized man, with pompous features, and a
pompous walk, and a flaxen wig. In his aquiline nose, compressed lips,
and pointed chin, might be traced a resemblance to his daughter; though
he never could have been half so good-looking as was pretty Barbara.

"Richard," spoke up Mrs. Hare from between her shawls, the instant he
opened the door.

"Well?"