ttle rustle, a scurry, a hop.

"A mouse," said Constantia.

"It can't be a mouse because there aren't any crumbs," said Josephine.

"But it doesn't know there aren't," said Constantia.

A spasm of pity squeezed her heart. Poor little thing! She wished she'd
left a tiny piece of biscuit on the dressing-table. It was awful to
think of it not finding anything. What would it do?

"I can't think how they manage to live at all," she said slowly.

"Who?" demanded Josephine.

And Constantia said more loudly than she meant to, "Mice."

Josephine was furious. "Oh, what nonsense, Con!" she said. "What have
mice got to do with it? You're asleep."

"I don't think I am," said Constantia. She shut her eyes to make sure.
She was.

Josephine arched her spine, pulled up her knees, folded her arms so that
her fists came under her ears, and pressed her cheek hard against the
pillow.

Chapter 3.II.

Another thing which complicated matters was they had Nurse Andrews
staying on with them that week. It was their own fault; they had asked
her. It was Josephine's idea. On the morning--well, on the last morning,
when the doctor had gone, Josephine had said to Constantia, "Don't you
think it would be rather nice if we asked Nurse Andrews to stay on for a
week as our guest?"

"Very nice," said Constantia.

"I thought," went on Josephine quickly, "I should just say this
afternoon, after I've paid her, 'My sister and I would be very pleased,
after all you've done for us, Nurse Andrews, if you would stay on for
a week as our guest.' I'd have to put that in about being our guest in
case--"

"Oh, but she could hardly expect to be paid!" cried Constantia.

"One never knows," said Josephine sagely.

Nurse Andrews had, of course, jumped at the idea. But it was a bother.
It meant they had to have regular sit-down meals at the proper times,
whereas if they'd been alone they could just have asked Kate if she
wouldn't have minded bringing them a tray wherever they were. And
meal-times now that the strain was over were rather a trial.

Nurse Andrews was simply fearful about butter. Really they couldn't
help feeling that about butter, at least, she took advantage of their
kindness. And she had that maddening habit of asking for just an inch
more of bread to finish what she had on her plate, and then, at the last
mouthful, absent-mindedly--of course it wasn't absent-mindedly--taking
another helping. Josephine got very red when this happen