"Mrs. Hastings sent for mother! How funny! There must be some
mistake," said Eugenia, putting her head in at the door. "Are you
sure it was mother?"

"Yes, quite sure," answered the man. "Mrs. Hastings thought she
would know what to do for the baby, which was born yesterday, and
is a puny little thing."

This silenced Eugenia, who waited impatiently until nightfall,
when her mother returned with a sad account of affairs at Rose
Hill. Mrs. Hastings was sick and nervous, Mrs. Leah was lazy and
cross, the servants ignorant and impertinent, the house was in
disorder; while Mr. Hastings, with a cloud on his face, ill
befitting a newly-made father, stalked up and down the sick-room,
looking in vain for an empty chair, so filled were they with
blankets, towels, baby's dresses, and the various kinds of work
which Ella was always beginning and never finishing.

"Such an ignorant, helpless creature I never saw," said Mrs.
Deane, "Why, she _don't know anything_--and such looking
rooms! I don't wonder her servants give her so much trouble; but
my heart ached for him, poor man, when I saw him putting away the
things, and trying to make the room a little more comfortable"

It was even as Mrs. Deane had said. Ella, whose favorite theory
was, "a big house, a lot of things, and _chairs_ enough to
put them in," was wholly unprepared for sickness, which found her
in a sad condition. To be sure there were quantities of French
embroidery, thread lace and fine linen, while the bed, on which