"I am afraid there is a storm coming up," replied Phillis, who had
been oppressed all day by the heavy thundery atmosphere: she had
looked so heated and weary that Nan had proposed a walk by the shore.
Work was pouring upon them from all sides: the townspeople, envious of
Mrs. Trimmings's stylish new dress, were besieging the Friary with
orders, and the young dressmakers would have been literally
overwhelmed with their labors, only that Nan, with admirable
foresight, insisted on taking in no more work than they felt
themselves able to complete.

"No," she would say to some disappointed customer, "our hands are full
just now, and we cannot undertake any more orders at present: we will
not promise more than we can perform. Come to me again in a
fortnight's time, and we will willingly make your dress, but now it is
impossible." And in most cases the dress was brought punctually at the
time appointed.

Phillis used to grumble a little at this.

"You ought not to refuse orders, Nan," she said, rather fretfully,
once. "Any other dressmaker would sit up half the night rather than
disappoint a customer."

"My dear," Nan returned, in her elder-sisterly voice, which had always
a great effect on Phillis, "I wonder what use Dulce and you would be
if you sat up sewing half the night, and drinking strong tea to keep
yourselves awake? No, there shall be no burning the candles at both
ends in this fashion; please God we will keep our health, and our
customers; and no one in their senses could call us idle. Why, we are
quite the fashion! Mrs. Squails told me yesterday that every one in
Hadleigh was wild to have a gown made by the 'lady dressmakers.'"

"Oh, I daresay!" replied Phillis, crossly, for the poor thing was so
hot and tired that she could have cried from pure weariness and
vexation of spirit: "but we shall not be the fashion long when the
novelty wears off; people will call us independent, and get tired of
us; and no wonder, if they are to wait for their dresses in this
way."

Nan's only answer was to look at Phillis's pale face in a pitying way;
and then she took her hand, and led her to the corner, where her
mother's Bible always lay, and then with ready fingers turned to the
well known-passage, "Man goeth forth unto his work and to his labor
unto the evening."

"Well, Nan, what then?"

"Evening is for rest,--for refreshment of mind and body: I will not
have it turned into a time of toil. I know you, Phillis; yo