Aunt Barbara wore a pocket tied on under her dress with a string, and she had been for some moments looking for it, as she was ready to put it on.
Hatty glanced round the room, and was delighted when she saw a piece of white Marseilles peeping out from under the tumbled bed-clothes. She sprang towards it, and handed the pocket to the old lady, who took it without a word, and went on dressing herself.
Hatty began to pick up the things about the room, and to throw open the bed; for she knew Aunt Barbara would not think of going down to breakfast until the room was a little in order.
Aunt Barbara did not seem to notice her; but when she had tied the strings to her close-quilted muslin cap, and pinned a broad black ribbon round it, she said: “Come, now, child, its not worth while your breakfast should get cold while you are waiting on me.”
Hatty’s face brightened, and she said, eagerly: “I should be glad to do anything for you, Aunt Barbara.”
“You may have more chance than you want, if I feel like this many mornings,” said Aunt Barbara, very sharply.
Aunt Barbara was not very pleasant at breakfast that morning. Nothing seemed cooked to suit her. The fact was, the poor old lady was not well, and had no appetite, and that made everything seem out of the way to her.
Hatty could not help noticing how pleasantly her mother took Aunt Barbara’s comments on the breakfast, that would have put many housekeepers out of patience. When nothing on the table seemed to suit Aunt Barbara, Mrs. Lee quietly sent out for a bit of ham to be boiled; and when it came in, she seemed pleased that the old lady ate a few mouthfuls,—complaining at first that it was done a trifle too much, and in the end making way with it all.
Mr. Lee did not seem to notice that Aunt Barbara was not well,—at least he did not ask about her health; and Hatty thought at first it was not quite right in her father, and she wondered that he should do anything so unlike himself. By-and-by she noticed that all the topics he brought up were such as were likely to interest Aunt Barbara. He spoke of meeting an old minister who used to live near her own home, and told how cheerfully he talked of his long, active life, and of the happy time when he should meet his Master in heaven. Then he brought up the new orphan asylum, which was always sure to enlist Aunt Barbara’s attention; and at last she seemed to forget her pains, while listening to his account of the meeting on the subject he had attended the evening before.
Hatty felt pleased as she saw the shadow passing from the old lady’s face, and she glanced across for Marcus to sympathize in her satisfaction. He did not see her, but Hatty noticed that he placed a comfortable chair, after breakfast, near the window where Aunt Barbara best loved to sit, and drew a footstool up to it.