“Now I wish you,” said he, “to set apart two hours of every day for your own private use.  Make a point of going to your room and locking yourself in; and also make up your mind to let the work which is not done, go undone, if it must.  Spend this time on just those things which will be most profitable to yourself.  I shall bind you to your promise for one month—­then, if it has proved a total failure, we will devise something else.”

“When shall I begin?”

“To-morrow.”

The morrow came.  Mrs. James had chosen the two hours before dinner as being, on the whole, the most convenient and the least liable to interruption.  They dined at one o’clock.  She wished to finish her morning work, get dressed for the day, and enter her room at eleven.

Hearty as were her efforts to accomplish this, the hour of eleven found her with her work but half done; yet, true to her promise, she left all, retired to her room and locked the door.

With some interest and hope, she immediately marked out a course of reading and study, for these two precious hours; then, arranging her table, her books, pen and paper, she commenced a schedule of her work with much enthusiasm.  Scarcely had she dipped her pen in ink, when she heard the tramping of little feet along the hall, and then a pounding at her door.

“Mamma! mamma!  I cannot find my mittens, and Hannah is going to slide without me.”

“Go to Amy, my dear; mamma is busy.”

“So Amy busy too; she say she can’t leave baby.”

The child began to cry, still standing close to the fastened door.  Mrs. James knew the easiest, and indeed the only way of settling the trouble, was to go herself and hunt up the missing mittens.  Then a parley must be held with Frank, to induce him to wait for his sister, and the child’s tears must be dried, and little hearts must be all set right before the children went out to play; and so favorable an opportunity must not be suffered to slip, without impressing on young minds the importance of having a “place for everything and everything in its place;” this took time; and when Mrs. James returned to her study, her watch told her that half her portion had gone.  Quietly resuming her work, she was endeavoring to mend her broken train of thought, when heavier steps were heard in the hall, and the fastened door was once more besieged.  Now, Mr. James must be admitted.

“Mary,” said he, “cannot you come and sew a string on for me?  I do believe there is not a bosom in my drawer in order, and I am in a great hurry.  I ought to have been down town an hour ago.”

The schedule was thrown aside, the workbasket taken, and Mrs. James followed him.  She soon sewed on the tape, but then a button needed fastening—­and at last a rip in his glove, was to be mended.  As Mrs. James stitched away on the glove, a smile lurked in the corners of her mouth, which her husband observed.