"Oh, I see; it is the old drawing-desk that no one used. And you have
put legs to it--how famous! You are the best contriver, Richard!"

Then see, you can raise it up for reading or writing; here's a corner
for your ink to stand flat; and there it is down for your dinner."

"Charming, you have made it go so easily, when it used to be so
stiff. There--give me my work-basket, please, Ethel; I mean to make
some more white puffs."

"What's the matter now, Ethel?" said Flora; "you look as if you did
not approve of the table."

"I was only thinking it was as if she was settling herself to lie in
bed for a very long time," said Ethel.

"I hope not," said Richard; "but I don't see why she should not be as
comfortable as she can, while she is there."

"I am sure I hope you will never be ill, Ethel," said Flora. "You
would be horrid to nurse!"

"She will know how to be grateful when she is," said Margaret.

"I say, Richard," exclaimed Ethel, "this is hospital-meeting day, so
you won't be wanted to drive papa."

"No, I am at your service; do you want a walk?"