sake of making her friend
comfortable. I can hardly bear to think of all the rough work she did
with those lovely hands--all by the sly, without letting her husband know
anything about it, and husbands are not clairvoyant: how she salted
bacon, ironed shirts and cravats, put patches on patches, and re-darned
darns. Then there was the task of mending and eking out baby-linen in
prospect, and the problem perpetually suggesting itself how she and Nanny
should manage when there was another baby, as there would be before very
many months were past.

When time glided on, and the Countess's visit did not end, Milly was not
blind to any phase of their position. She knew of the slander; she was
aware of the keeping aloof of old friends; but these she felt almost
entirely on her husband's account. A loving woman's world lies within the
four walls of her own home; and it is only through her husband that she
is in any electric communication with the world beyond. Mrs. Simpkins may
have looked scornfully at her, but baby crows and holds out his little
arms none the less blithely; Mrs. Tomkins may have left off calling on
her, but her husband comes home none the less to receive her care and
caresses; it has been wet and gloomy out of doors today, but she has
looked well after the shirt buttons, has cut out baby's pinafores, and
half finished Willy's blouse.

So it was with Milly. She was only vexed that her husband should be
vexed--only wounded because he was misconceived. But the difficulty about
ways and means she felt in quite a different manner. Her rectitude was
alarmed lest they should have to make tradesmen wait for their money; her
motherly love dreaded the diminution of comforts for the children; and
the sense of her own failing health gave exaggerated force to these
fears.

Milly could no longer shut her eyes to the fact, that the Countess was
inconsiderate, if she did not allow herself to entertain severer
thoughts; and she began to feel that it would soon be a duty to tell her
frankly that they really could not afford to have her visit farther
prolonged. But a process was going forward in two other minds, which
ultimately saved Milly from having to perform this painful task.

In the first place, the Countess was getting weary of Shepperton--weary
of waiting for her brother's overtures which never came; so, one fine
morning, she reflected that forgiveness was a Christian duty, that a
sister should be placable, that Mr