ird. And don't, for pity's
sake, look patient! If there is one thing I cannot abide, it is to see
people look patient when I insult them. If I had only known--but John
Montfort always did like to thwart me, it's his nature--if I had only
known, I say, that those brats of yours were going away, I need not have
set up a menagerie of my own. It's too late now, the creature's coming."

"What do you mean, Mrs. Peyton?" asked Margaret, always prepared for any
whim of her whimsical neighbor. "Are you setting up a dog too?"

"No! nothing half so comfortable as a dog. A fox, or wolf, or hyena, or
something of that kind. Don't be stupid, Margaret; I am not up to
explanations to-day. A companion, simpleton! A Miss Fox or Miss Wolfe, I
can't remember which. I don't _think_ it was Miss Hyena, but it might
be. It's an unusual name, but she is recommended as an unusual person."

"Mrs. Peyton! you said you never would try it again. And you know I am
always ready to come and read to you."

"I know you are a little Fra Angelico angel, with your halo laid in your
top bureau drawer among your collars, for fear people should see it; but
I have a little scrap of conscience about me somewhere,--not much, only
about a saltspoonful,--and if you came every day it would get up and
worry me, and I can't be worried. Besides, the doctor ordered it,
positively."

"Doctor Flower? has he been out again?"

"Yes, he came on Monday. I thought I was going to die, and wanted him to
see how prettily I should do it. I'll never send for him again; he
always tells me to get up and do things. Tiresome man! I told him I was
perfectly exhausted by simply listening to him for half an hour. He
replied by ordering this Miss Fox, or whoever she is. I am to try her
for a month; I sha'n't probably keep her a week."

"A nurse?"

"No, not a trained nurse. She means to be one, goes to the hospital in
the autumn. He thinks she has a gift, or something. I detest people with
a gift. Probably she has a squint, too. You will have to receive her
when she comes, Margaret, and take the edge off her. I fancy her
unendurable, but I promised to try; I really must be going to die, I am
growing so amiable. Which of my gems do you want? I am going to make my
will this time. You needn't laugh, Margaret Montfort."

"I was laughing at your dying of amiability, Mrs. Peyton!" said
Margaret. "When is this young lady--I suppose she is young, if she is
going to study nursing--when is