not do that for the world."

"Especially after her kind nursing of me, and even, with more reason, it
would not be becoming in us to make changes. Besides, King Etheldred,"
said Margaret, smiling, "we all know you are a little bit of a sloven,
and, as nurse says, some one must be always after you, and do you know?
even if I were well, I had rather it was Miss Winter than me."

"Oh, no, you would not be formal and precise--you would not make me
cross."

"Perhaps you might make me so," said Margaret, "or I should let you
alone, and leave you a slattern. We should both hate it so! No, don't
make me your mistress, Ethel dear--let me be your sister and play-fellow
still, as well as I can."

"You are, you are. I don't care half so much when I have got you."

"And will you try to bear with her, and remember it is right in the
main, though it is troublesome?"

"That I will. I won't plague you again. I know it is bad for you, you
look tired."

"Pray don't leave off telling me," said Margaret--"it is just what I
wish on my own account, and I know it is comfortable to have a good
grumble."

"If it does not hurt you, but I am sure you are not easy now--are you?"

"Only my back," said Margaret. "I have been sitting up longer than
usual, and it is tired. Will you call nurse to lay me flat again?"

The nursery was deserted--all were out, and Ethel came back in
trepidation at the notion of having to do it herself, though she knew
it was only to put one arm to support her sister, while, with the other,
she removed the pillows; but Ethel was conscious of her own awkwardness
and want of observation, nor had Margaret entire trust in her. Still she
was too much fatigued to wait, so Ethel was obliged to do her best. She
was careful and frightened, and therefore slow and unsteady. She trusted
that all was right, and Margaret tried to believe so, though still
uneasy.

Ethel began to read to her, and Dr. May came home. She looked up
smiling, and asked where he had been, but it was vain to try to keep him
from reading her face. He saw in an instant that something was amiss,
and drew from her a confession that her back was aching a little. He
knew she might have said a great deal--she was not in a comfortable
position--she must be moved. She shook her head--she had rather
wait--there was a dread of being again lifted by Ethel that she could
not entirely hide. Ethel was distressed, Dr. May was angry, and, no
wonder, when he saw Marg