seem to take to her--young
children, I mean."

"Not fitted? Bah!" said John. "Every woman is fitted by nature to rear
children and manage a house."

"They should be, I know," yielded Mary in conciliatory fashion. "But
with Zara it doesn't seem to be the case."

"Then she ought to be ashamed of herself, my dear Mary--ashamed of
herself--and that's all about it!"

Zara wept into a dainty handkerchief and was delivered of a rigmarole
of complaints against her brother, the servants, the children.
According to her, the last were naturally perverse, and John indulged
them so shockingly that she had been powerless to carry out reforms.
Did she punish them, he cancelled the punishments; if she left their
naughtiness unchecked, he accused her of indifference. Then her
housekeeping had not suited him: he reproached her with extravagance,
with mismanagement, even with lining her own purse. "While the truth
is, John is mean as dirt! I had literally to drag each penny out of
him."

"But what ever induced you to undertake it again, Zara?"

"Yes, what indeed!" echoed Zara bitterly. "However, once bitten, Mary,
twice shy. NEVER again!"

But remembering the bites Zara had already received, Mary was silent.

Even Zara's amateurish hand thus finally withdrawn, it became Mary's
task to find some worthy and capable person to act as mistress. Taking
her obligations seriously, she devoted her last days in Australia to
conning and penning advertisements, and interviewing applicants.

"Now no one too attractive, if you please, Mrs. Mahony!--if you don't
want him to fall a victim," teased Richard. "Remember our good John's
inflammability. He's a very Leyden jar again at present."

"No, indeed I don't," said Mary with emphasis. "But the children are
the first consideration. Oh, dear! it does seem a shame that Tilly
shouldn't have them to look after. And it would relieve John of so much
responsibility. As it is, he's even asked me to make it plain to Tilly
that he wishes Trotty to spend her holidays at school."

The forsaking of the poor little motherless flock cut Mary to the
heart. Trotty had dung to her, inconsolable. "Oh, Auntie, TAKE me with
you! Oh, what shall I do without you?"

"It's not possible, darling. Your papa would never agree. But I tell
you what, Trotty: you must be a good girl and make haste and learn all
you can. For soon, I'm sure, he'll want you to come and be his little
housekeeper, and look after the other ch