I am sure, for you gave me quite a turn. There is
nothing worse than having the whooping-cough late in life--it is quite
ruinous to the constitution. You know that, don't you, father?--for
great-aunt Saunders never got rid of it winter and summer. She had a
good constitution, too; never ailed much, and brought up a large
family--though most of them died before her: they had not her
constitution, had they, father? Great-aunt Saunders was a stout-built
sort of woman; but with all her good constitution and regular living she
never got rid of the whooping-cough.'

'Shall I give you a slice of this excellent cake?' asked Audrey
politely, and with a laudable desire to hear no more of great-aunt
Saunders' good constitution, and, to change the subject, she begged for
a recipe of the seed-cake for her mother.

Mrs. Baxter looked almost happy as she gave it. She was an excellent
cook, and her light hand for cakes and pastry, her delicious scones and
crisp short-cake, must have been remembered with regret by the recusant
Joe, and may have had something to do with his anxious claims. Mrs.
Baxter forgot her beloved iteration; her monotonous voice roused into
positive animation as she verbally weighed out quantities.

'A great deal depends on the oven, Miss Ross, as I tell Hannah. Many and
many a well-mixed cake has been spoiled by the baking; you may use the
best of materials, but if the oven is over-hot----' and so on, to all of
which Audrey listened with that pleased air of intelligent interest
which once made Michael call her 'the most consummate little hypocrite
on the face of the earth.'

'For you were not a bit interested in listening to old Dr. Sullivan's
account of those beetles,' he said on that occasion. 'You know nothing
about beetles, Audrey. I saw you once yawning behind your hand--which
was positively rude--and yet there you were making big eyes at the dear
old man, and hanging on his words as though they were diamonds and
pearls.'

'You are too hard on me, Michael,' returned Audrey, who was a little
hurt at this accusation. She rarely quarrelled with Michael, but now and
then his keen man's wit was too much for her. 'I was very much
interested in what Dr. Sullivan was saying, although I certainly do not
understand the habits of beetles, any more than I understand the Greek
literature about which you are pleased to talk to me,' in a pointed
tone. 'And if I yawned'--speaking still in an injured voice--'it was
bec