ll do a lot toward making things
pleasant to start with."

"I'm so glad!" Celia agreed. "How did mother get off? Did her strength
keep up?"

"Pretty well--better than I'd have thought possible after all the fuss
of that last hour. The new doctor braced her up in good shape. He seems
all right. Didn't you like the way he acted? Neither like an old family
physician nor a new johnny-jump-up; just quiet and cool and pleasant.
Glad he lives next door. I mean to know him."

Lansing was turning out lights as he talked, looking after window
fastenings, and examining things generally. Celia watched him from her
place on the bottom stair. He was approaching her with the intention of
putting out the hall light and joining her to proceed up-stairs, when he
stopped still, wheeled, and made for the back of the hall, where the
cellar stairs began.

"I'm forgetting the furnace!" he cried.

"It's all right," Celia assured him. "Jeff took care of it. He says
that's his work, since you're to be away all day."

"Think he can manage it?"

"Of course he can. The way to please Jeff is to give him responsibility.
He's old enough, and even having to look after such small matters
regularly will help to develop him."

Lansing laughed; then, extinguishing the light, he came up to her on the
stair, and putting his arm about her shoulders, began to ascend slowly
with her.

"Shouldering your cares already, aren't you? Got to keep us all
straight, and develop all our characters. Poor girl, you'll have a hard
tussle!"

"I'm afraid I shall. Do you go to work at the shops in the morning?"

"Yes. Breakfast at six. Did you tell Delia?"

"Yes, but I'm going to let her go afterward. I arranged with her, when
father first told us, to stay just till they had gone, and then leave
things to me. I can't be too busy from now on, and I don't want to wait
a day to begin."

"Wise girl. Sorry, though, that I have to get you up every morning so
early. Couldn't you leave things ready so I could manage for myself
about breakfast, somehow?"

"No, indeed! If I'm to have a day-labourer for a brother, I shall see
that he has a good hot breakfast and the heartiest kind of a lunch in
his pail every-day."

"You're the right sort!" murmured Lansing, patting his sister's shoulder
as he paused with her in front of her door. "I must admit I shall prefer
the hot breakfast. Better sleep late to-morrow morning, though."

"I shall be up when you are," Celia declar