laid eggs that Mrs. Broughton sent me.
Mrs. Luttrell has had no dinner; if the scones are ready we will have
tea at once." And as Deborah nodded and vanished, she shook her head a
little sadly. "Olive dear, it won't pay; you are not the sort of
person who can safely starve. I thought there was something wrong
about you when you came in; you had a peaky, under-fed look. Oh, I
thought so!" as the tears rose to Olivia's eyes. "Now, I am not going
to say another word until you have had your tea. Look at Zoe; she
thinks you are in trouble about something, and wants to lick your face.
Is not the sympathy of a dumb creature touching? They don't understand
what is wrong, but they see plainly that their human friend is unhappy.
Come to me, Zoe, and I will explain matters. It is not much of a
trouble. Olive is not really miserable; she is only cold and hungry
and weak, and wants petting and cosseting."

"I think I am rather unhappy, Aunt Madge," returned Olivia, in a sad
voice. "Things are getting worse, and Marcus looks so careworn; he was
talking in his sleep last night. We have so little money left--only
just enough for six months' rent and the coals, and ever so little for
housekeeping, and no patients come, and now I have made up my mind to
tell him to-night that Martha must go."

"My dear Olivia, we talked that over a few weeks ago, and we decided
then that you had better keep her."

"Yes, Aunt Madge, I know; but indeed, indeed we cannot afford her
food--these growing girls must be properly fed, and the amount of bread
and butter she eats would astonish Deb----" and here Olivia heaved a
harassed sigh.

"Well, well, we will talk it over again"--and then Deb brought in the
tea-things, and the scones, and the new-laid eggs, and as Mrs.
Broderick sipped her tea it did her kind heart good to see how her
niece enjoyed the good things before her.

"There now, you feel ever so much better," she said, when the meal was
finished. "Now we can talk comfortably. I have been thinking over
what you have said, and I suppose you are right from your point of
view, and that if you cannot afford Martha's food she must go, but I
have been thinking of Marcus. He is at the turning-point of his
career. Everything depends on his making a practice. When patients
send for him, and they will send for him by-and-by, do you think it
will look well for his wife to open the door to them."

"But, Aunt Madge----"

"Olive, you were a