ng Joan good."

"Can't you put her down? Make her up a bed on a chair or something, can't
you?"

"No. She rouses at once if I try to put her out of my arms. I would
rather hold her. It doesn't matter about being hot. I shall cool down
again some day."

Audrey picked up a tray. "I am going to get mother's breakfast," she
announced. "I want to make it look nice. Mary, can you wipe this tray
for me, it has something sticky on it."

Mary put down her saucepan of milk and went away with the tray in her
hand. "I s'pose it must have touched something," she said cheerfully.

"Yes, evidently--and you couldn't have washed it properly. It has made my
hands sticky too." It really was aggravating, for she had only just
washed them. "Where can I find a clean tray-cloth, Mary?"

"In the drawer of the press, miss."

Audrey's face wore an expression of deep disdain as she turned over the
collection of things in the untidy drawer. "I can't see anything fit to
use," she said irritably. "Where are the clean ones kept, Mary?"

"We have only two, miss, one is in the wash, the other you've got in your
hand. It is a bit crumpled, I am afraid."

"If we've got so few, it's a pity not to take more care of those we have,"
grumbled Audrey, "this really is not fit to use, but I suppose I must."
When she began to collect the china, the cup, as usual, had a smear on it,
and the plate was not clean. "I had better wash it all, I suppose, as
usual!" she thought impatiently, and banged open the tea-towel drawer with
such force that Joan started out of her sleep.

"I'd have got the tray ready, if you'd left it, Miss Audrey," said Mary
shortly.

"I wanted to make it look nice and tempting."

Poor Faith grew to look harassed and miserable. Whatever happened, she
did not want a collision between Audrey and Mary. Mary was rough, and not
thorough, but she was good-tempered, hard-working, and ready to turn her
hand to anything.

Mr. Carlyle came into the kitchen. "Is breakfast nearly ready?" he asked,
"it is nine o'clock, and I have a full day before me--why, Baby! what is
the matter?" He stood looking down at his two flushed daughters, while
Faith explained. "But I think she is better," she concluded eagerly,
"look, daddy, she is smiling at you! If we are careful all day, I daresay
she will be well to-morrow."

"And do you intend to sit by that fire all day with her! Why, you will be
a cinder."

Faith laughed, "I am rat