tgown still, and
playing with poor faded Belinda.

Mary had to set the table, and Mary had to cut the lunches, and Nancy
had to miss her bath, and go to Mary for the buttoning of her clothes.
And all because Betty had gone out to make her fortune!

Mrs. Bruce came out of her room late--which was a very usual thing for
her to do--and she called:--

"Nancy, come and take baby. Betty, find me a safety pin _quickly_. I
think I saw one on the floor near the piano."

And Mr. Bruce followed her in his slippers, and called--

"Nancy--Betty--one of you go down to the gate and bring up the paper."

Cyril ran to them breathless with his news--

"Betty's never got up yet. Mary's had to do all her work an' she's not
got breakfast ready yet. And Nancy's had to dress herself an' all."

Mrs. Bruce opened her eyes--just like Dot did when she was very
surprised, and said,--

"Then go and _make_ Betty get up at once." But Cyril interrupted with--

"She's not in bed at all. She's out playing somewhere; I daresay she's
gone to school so's to be before me and Nancy. She's always doing that
now."

Mrs. Bruce had to hurry to make up for lost time--as she had perpetually
to do--and she could not stay to lend an ear to Cyril's tale. So he was
left grumbling on about Betty, and school, and a hundred and one things
that were "not fair."

Nancy had a bowl of porridge and milk in the kitchen, superintended in
the eating of it by Mary, who was giving baby her morning portion of
bread and milk.

Cyril carried his porridge plate to the verandah that he might watch if
Betty was lurking around in the hopes of breakfast.

And Mr. Bruce read the paper and sipped a cup of abominably made coffee
serenely.

They were such a scattered family at breakfast time usually, that one
away made little difference. No one but Cyril missed Betty at the table.
Her services in the house were missed--so many duties had almost
unnoticeably slipped upon her small shoulders, and now it was found
there was no one to do them but slip-shod overworked Mary.

Just as Cyril was setting off to school Mary ran after him with a
newspaper parcel of clumsy bread and jam sandwiches.

"I'm not sending Miss Betty's," she said--"it'll teach her not to clear
out of the way again."

Mrs. Bruce put her head out of the kitchen window--she had not had
"time" for any breakfast yet beyond a cup of tea.

"Send Betty home again," she said; "she _shan't_ go to school till her