"I know that. But Laura--The other children have never given me a
moment's worry. But Laura's different. I seem to get less and less able
to manage her. If only her father had been alive to help!"

"I'm sure no father livin' could do more than you for those blessed
children," said Sarah with impatience. "You think of nothin' else. It 'ud
be a great deal better if you took more care o' yourself. You sit up
nights an' don't get no proper sleep slavin' away at that blessed
embroid'ry an' stuff, so as Miss Laura can get off to school an' to 'er
books. An' then you want to worry over 'er as well.--She'll be all
right. Miss Laura's like peas. You've got to get 'em outer the
pod--they're in there sure enough. An' b'sides I guess school'll knock
all the nonsense out of 'er."

"Oh, I hope they won't be too hard on her," said Mother in quick alarm.
-"Shut the side gate, will you. Those children have left it open again.
--And, Sarah, I think we'll turn out the drawing-room."

Sarah grunted to herself as she went to close the gate. This had not
entered into her scheme of work for the day, and her cooking was still
undone. But she did not gainsay her mistress, as she otherwise would
have made no scruple of doing; for she knew that nothing was more
helpful to the latter in a crisis than hard, manual work. Besides, Sarah
herself had a sneaking weakness for what she called "dra'in'-room days".
For the drawing-room was the storehouse of what treasures had remained
over from a past prosperity. It was crowded with bric-a-brac and
ornament; and as her mistress took these objects up one by one, to dust
and polish them, she would, if she were in a good humour, tell Sarah
where and how they had been bought, or describe the places they had
originally come from: so that Sarah, pausing broom in hand to listen,