"But he will have that to bear all alone," said Ada; "it's a wretched nuisance."
Mrs. Arundel looked up quickly. "Dear Ada, I do not quite like you to say 'nuisance;' when our Father points out a path for us, we must not call it that."
"Oh, mamma, I did not mean anything wrong, only it does seem so hard!"
"'We know that all things work together for good to them that love God,'" said her mother softly, as if speaking more to herself than them. And then she went up the long flights of stairs till she came into her own room over the drawing room, where were two little cots. One of these was empty, for baby was not in bed yet; but at the other one she knelt down, and laid her head op the pillow beside little Tom.
[CHAPTER II.]
GETTING READY.
IT was a happy party that met at breakfast the next morning. "Going out of town" to London children means a very delightful change from bricks and mortar, glaring sunshine and hot pavements, to fresh meadows, hedges and trees, or the exquisite delights of the sea-side. Then there is the packing up; the bustle; the drive through London in a cab; the anticipation; the journey; the intense expectation as to what the new place will be like—these and a hundred more thoughts will be recognised by London children as belonging to "going out of town."
Dr. Arundel sat at the bottom of the table, with Netta and Isabel on either side of him, and he looked as pleased and smiling as all the rest.