“Here, Julia”—­to the ten-year old newcomer—­“Go away from that raisin-box, this minute.  Go up stairs out of my way, and Alfred too.  Sadie, take Minnie with you; I can’t have her here another instant.  You can afford to do that much, perhaps.”

“O, Ester, you’re cross!” said Sadie, in a good-humored tone, coming forward after the little girl.

“Come, Birdie, Auntie Essie’s cross, isn’t she?  Come with Aunt Sadie.  We’ll go to the piazza and make Mr. Hammond tell us a story.”

And Minnie—­Ester’s darling, who never received other than loving words from her—­went gleefully off, leaving another heartburn to the weary girl.  They stung her, those words:  “Auntie Essie’s cross, isn’t she?”

Back and forth, from dining-room to pantry, from pantry to dining-room, went the quick feet At last she spoke: 

“Maggie, leave the ironing and help me; it is time tea was ready.”

“I’m just ironing Mr. Holland’s shirt,” objected Maggie.

“Well, I don’t care if Mr. Holland never has another shirt ironed.  I want you to go to the spring for water and fill the table-pitchers, and do a dozen other things.”

The tall clock in the dining-room struck five, and the dining-bell pealed out its prompt summons through the house.  The family gathered promptly and noisily—­school-girls, half a dozen or more, Mr. Hammond, the principal of the academy, Miss Molten, the preceptress, Mrs. Brookley, the music-teacher, Dr. Van Anden, the new physician, Mr. and Mrs. Holland, and Mr. Arnett, Mr. Holland’s clerk.  There was a moment’s hush while Mr. Hammond asked a blessing on the food; then the merry talk went on.  For them all Maggie poured cups of tea, and Ester passed bread and butter, and beef and cheese, and Sadie gave overflowing dishes of blackberries, and chattered like a magpie, which last she did everywhere and always.

“This has been one of the scorching days,” Mr. Holland said.  “It was as much as I could do to keep cool in the store, and we generally are well off for a breeze there.”

“It has been more than I could do to keep cool anywhere,” Mrs. Holland answered.  “I gave it up long ago in despair.”

Ester’s lip curled a little.  Mrs. Holland had nothing in the world to do, from morning until night, but to keep herself cool.  She wondered what the lady would have said to the glowing kitchen, where she had passed most of the day.

“Miss Ester looks as though the heat had been too much for her cheeks,” Mrs. Brookley said, laughing.  “What have you been doing?”

“Something besides keeping cool,” Ester answered soberly.

“Which is a difficult thing to do, however,” Dr. Van Anden said, speaking soberly too.

“I don’t know, sir; if I had nothing to do but that, I think I could manage it.”

“I have found trouble sometimes in keeping myself at the right temperature even in January.”