‘It is your holiday, my dear,’ was the reply, as Mrs. Hood went to stir the fire.  ‘You must amuse yourself in your own way.’

‘Of course you have had tea.  I really want nothing till supper-time.’

‘It was not worth while to make tea for one,’ said her mother, with a sigh.

’And you have had none?  Then I will make it this minute.  When will father be home?’

‘It is quite uncertain.  He gets more and more irregular.’

‘Why should he be kept so beyond the proper time?  It is really too bad.’

’My dear, your father is never satisfied with doing his own work; he’s always taking somebody else’s as well.  Of course, they find that out, and they put upon him.  I’ve talked and talked, but it’s no use; I suppose it’ll go on in the same way to the end.’

Half an hour later Mr. Hood reached home, as usual, worn out.  The last half mile of the walk from Dunfield was always a struggle with exhaustion.  He had to sit several minutes before he was able to go upstairs to refresh himself with cold water.

‘I met Mrs. Cartwright,’ he said, when an unexpected cup of tea from Emily’s hands had put him into good spirits.  ’Jessie got home on Saturday, and wants you to go and see her, Emily.  I half promised you would call to-morrow morning.’

‘Yes, I will,’ said Emily.

‘I don’t think it’s altogether right,’ remarked Mrs. Hood, ’that Emily should have to work in her holidays; and I’m sure it’s all no use; Jessie Cartwright will never do any good if she has lessons from now to Doomsday.’

‘Well, it’s very necessary she should,’ replied Mr. Hood.  ’How ever they live as they do passes my comprehension.  There was Mrs. Cartwright taking home fruit and flowers which cost a pretty penny, I’ll be bound.  And her talk!  I thought I should never get away.  There’s one thing, she never has any but good-natured gossip; I never leave her without feeling that she is one of the best-hearted women I know.’

‘I can’t say that her daughters take after her,’ Mrs. Hood remarked, soothed, as always, by comment upon her acquaintances.  ’Amy was here the other afternoon, and all the time she never ceased making fun of those poor Wilkinses; it really was all I could do to keep from telling her she ought to be ashamed of herself.  Mary Wilkins, at all events, makes no pretences; she may be plain, but she’s a good girl, and stays at home to do what’s required of her.  As for the Cartwright girls—­well, we shall see what’ll happen some day.  It can’t go on, that’s quite certain.’

’I don’t think there’s any real harm in them.  They’re thoughtless, but then they’re very young.  They oughtn’t to have so much of their own way.  What’s your opinion of Jessie, Emily?  Do you think she’ll ever be fit to teach?’

’She might, if she could live apart from her mother and sisters for a time.  I think she’ll have to come here for her lessons; it’s out of the question to do anything at that house.’