must have their orders," Elizabeth replied; "come what may,
everything must go on as usual to the last moment."

Elsie shivered down among her cushions and was silent. She had pulled
the sofa close to the hearth, gathered a pile of French novels about
her, and sat there trying her best to be comfortable in her feeble way.

"If you would only sit down," she exclaimed, at length.

"I cannot," replied Elizabeth; and resumed her dreary walk.

Then there came more interruptions; Victoria wished to know if they
would have luncheon.

"Marster's got in de library wid dem men--'spect missus don't want to go
down."

"What is she talking about?" questioned Elsie from her sofa.

"Luncheon," said Elizabeth; "will you have it up here?"

"As if one could eat--"

A warning gesture from Elizabeth checked her.

"You may bring the luncheon up here," Elizabeth said to the girl.

Victoria went out and closed the door.

"I believe they would come if we were dying, to know if we would take
time to eat," cried Elsie.

"Everything must go on as usual," was Elizabeth's answer.

"How can you stand there and talk so calmly to them!" cried Elsie. "It's
enough to drive one frantic."

"It is too late now to be anything but quiet--entirely too late."

Elsie began some shuddering complaints, but Elizabeth did not wait to
hear them; she had resumed her promenade, walking with the same
restless, eager haste, her eyes seeming to look afar off and unable to
fix themselves upon any object in the rooms.

"There is another knock," cried Elsie. "Oh, they'll drive me frantic!"

"Come in," Elizabeth said, sharply.

It was Victoria with the luncheon tray, and it seemed as if she never
would have done arranging it to her satisfaction.

"I brung yer some apricot jelly, Miss Elsie," she said; "I knowed you
had one of yer headaches."

But Elsie only moaned and turned upon her cushions.

"Dar's only cold chicken and dat patter," said Vic; "I took de ducks in
fur marster."

"There is quite enough," said Elizabeth; "you needn't wait."

"Yes, miss," returned Vic. "I hain't had no time yet to sweep de room
Miss Harrington had--Clo, she's ugly as Cain, ter day."

"It makes no difference," said Elizabeth, while Elsie threw down her
book in feverish impatience.

"Yes, miss, but tain't pleasant," returned Vic, with her most elegant
curtsey. "I likes to do my work reg'lar and in time, missus knows dat;
but when Clo gets into one o' her tantrums