r and
her children Marcella had spent from the beginning a number of new
womanish wiles which, strangely enough, this hard, strenuous life had
been developing in her. She would come and help put the children to bed;
she would romp with them in their night-gowns; she would bend her
imperious head over the anxious endeavour to hem a pink cotton pinafore
for Daisy, or dress a doll for the baby. But the relation jarred and
limped perpetually, and Marcella wistfully thought it her fault.

Just now, however, as she sat gently swaying backwards and forwards in
the rocking-chair, enjoying her tea, her mood was one of nothing but
content.

"Oh, Minta, give me another cup. I want to have a sleep so badly, and
then I am going to see Miss Hallin, and stay to supper with them."

"Well, you mustn't go out in them nursin' things again," said Minta,
quickly; "I've put you in some lace in your black dress, an' it looks
beautiful."

"Oh, thank you, Minta; but that black dress always seems to me too smart
to walk about these streets in."

"It's just _nice_," said Minta, with decision. "It's just what everybody
that knows you--what your mamma--would like to see you in. I can't abide
them nursin' clothes--nasty things!"

"I declare!" cried Marcella, laughing, but outraged; "I never like
myself so well in anything."

Minta was silent, but her small mouth took an obstinate look. What she
really felt was that it was absurd for ladies to wear caps and aprons
and plain black bonnets, when there was no need for them to do anything
of the kind.

"Whatever have you been doing to your cheek?" she exclaimed, suddenly,
as Marcella handed her the empty cup to take away.

Marcella explained shortly, and Minta looked more discontented than
ever. "A lot of low people as ought to look after themselves," that was
how in her inmost mind she generally defined Marcella's patients. She
had been often kind and soft to her neighbours at Mellor, but these
dirty, crowded Londoners were another matter.

"Where is Daisy?" asked Marcella as Minta was going away with the tea;
"she must have come back from school."

"Here I am," said Daisy, with a grin, peeping in through the door of the
back kitchen. "Mother, baby's woke up."

"Come here, you monkey," said Marcella; "come and go to sleep with me.
Have you had your tea?"

"Yes, lots," said Daisy, climbing up into Marcella's lap. "Are you going
to be asleep a long time?"

"No--only a nap. Oh! Daisy, I'