pocket tied on under her dress with a string, and
she had been for some moments looking for it, as she was ready to put it
on.

Hatty glanced round the room, and was delighted when she saw a piece of
white Marseilles peeping out from under the tumbled bed-clothes. She
sprang towards it, and handed the pocket to the old lady, who took it
without a word, and went on dressing herself.

Hatty began to pick up the things about the room, and to throw open the
bed; for she knew Aunt Barbara would not think of going down to
breakfast until the room was a little in order.

Aunt Barbara did not seem to notice her; but when she had tied the
strings to her close-quilted muslin cap, and pinned a broad black ribbon
round it, she said: "Come, now, child, its not worth while your
breakfast should get cold while you are waiting on me."

Hatty's face brightened, and she said, eagerly: "I should be glad to do
anything for you, Aunt Barbara."

"You may have more chance than you want, if I feel like this many
mornings," said Aunt Barbara, very sharply.

Aunt Barbara was not very pleasant at breakfast that morning. Nothing
seemed cooked to suit her. The fact was, the poor old lady was not well,
and had no appetite, and that made everything seem out of the way to
her.

Hatty could not help noticing how pleasantly her mother took Aunt
Barbara's comments on the breakfast, that would have put many
housekeepers out of patience. When nothing on the table seemed to suit
Aunt Barbara, Mrs. Lee quietly sent out for a bit of ham to be boiled;
and when it came in, she seemed pleased that the old lady ate a few
mouthfuls,--complaining at first that it was done a trifle too much, and
in the end making way with it all.

Mr. Lee did not seem to notice that Aunt Barbara was not well,--at least
he did not ask about her health; and Hatty thought at first it was not
quite right in her father, and she wondered that he should do anything
so unlike himself. By-and-by she noticed that all the topics he brought
up were such as were likely to interest Aunt Barbara. He spoke of
meeting an old minister who used to live near her own home, and told how
cheerfully he talked of his long, active life, and of the happy time
when he should meet his Master in heaven. Then he brought up the new
orphan asylum, which was always sure to enlist Aunt Barbara's
attention; and at last she seemed to forget her pains, while listening
to his account of the meeting on the subj