provoking!" She turned to Orde for sympathy. "Do you know ANYTHING
more aggravating than to work and slave to the limit of endurance,
and then have everything upset by the stupidity of some one else?"

Orde murmured an appropriate reply, to which Mrs. Bishop paid no
attention whatever. She started suddenly up from the table.

"I must see about it!" she cried. "I plainly see I shall have to do
it myself. I WILL do it myself. I promised it for Sunday."

"You mustn't do another stitch, mother," put in Carroll Bishop
decidedly. "You know what the doctor told you. You'll have
yourself down sick."

"Well, see for yourself!" cried Mrs. Bishop. "That's what comes of
leaving things to others! If I'd done it myself, it would have
saved me all this bother and fuss, and it would have been done. And
now I've got to do it anyway."

"My dear," put in the general, "perhaps Carroll can see Marie about
it. In any case, there's nothing to work yourself up into such an
excitement about."

"It's very easy for you to talk, isn't it?" cried Mrs. Bishop,
turning on him. "I like the way you all sit around like lumps and
do nothing, and then tell me how I ought to have done it. John,
have the carriage around at once." She turned tensely to Orde. "I
hope you'll excuse me," she said very briefly; "I have something
very important to attend to."