e took them
away with her, leaving the men to their "smokes," "is not so much to work
yourself as to be able to make others work in the way you want them to."

"That's just it," agreed Mona, "and that's just what I can't do! Why, my
servants rode over me so, and were so impudent and lazy, I just gave up
housekeeping and went to a hotel to live. We had to,--there was no other
way out."

"And how Roger hates it!" said Elise, who, as Roger's sister, thought
herself privileged to comment.

A cloud passed over Mona's face. "He does," she admitted, "but what can I
do? He hated worse the scenes we had when we were housekeeping."

"Perhaps conditions will get better now," said Patty, hopefully, "and you
can try again, Mona, with better results."

"Maybe; and perhaps you can teach me. You used to teach me lots of
things, Patty."

"All right,--I'll willingly do anything I can. Now, who wants to see my
angel child? Or would you rather go to your rooms first?"

"No, indeed," cried Elise, "let me see her right now. If she's as pretty
as the wistaria vine--oh, Patty, why don't you name her Wistaria?"

"Gracious, what a name! No, she's Fleurette,--or so Little Billee says.
Anyway, here she is."

Patty led them to the nursery, and from the lacy draperies of the
bassinette a smiling baby face looked up at them.

"What a heavenly kiddy!" Elise exclaimed, "Oh, Patty, what a daffodil
head! Just a blur of yellow fuzz! And such blue eyes! She looks exactly
like you! And exactly like Bill, too. Oh, I never saw such a darling
baby. Let me take her,--mayn't I?"

"Yes, indeed. She's no glass-case baby."

Elise picked up the dear little bundle, and cooed and crooned in most
approved fashion.

Apparently Fleurette understood, for she smiled and gurgled, and seemed
to look upon Elise as an old friend.

Mona admired the baby but was more interested in the house.

"Show me everything," she begged Patty. "I want to see it all. Where's
your linen closet?"

"My linen closet is a room," and Patty led them thither. "You see, we
have such a lot of rooms and,--such a lot of linen,--that I took this
little bedroom for a linen press. I had a carpenter put in the shelves
and cupboards just as I wanted them,--and here's the result."

With justifiable pride, Patty showed her linen collection. Sheets,
towels, tablecloths,--each sort in its place, each dozen held by blue
ribbon bands, that fastened with little pearl buckles.

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