“Not at all,” said her mother heartily. “He is not my property, anyway; though if I see you going very wrong, I shall put in my word.”
“Oh, do!” said Bess. “I feel half terrified at the thought of my responsibility. Still, I think that, at least, I shall do as well as Mrs. Allen.”
The next afternoon Fred lay stretched on the sofa in an unusually dismal mood. The whole house was in a bustle; his mother and Mary had been up-stairs all day, rummaging through closets and drawers, with not a moment to spare for him; the fire had gone out in the grate, and there was no one near to build him another; and, worst of all. Miss Bess had not been near him for four days, while Rob had not been down for two weeks. Everybody had forgotten him, and he wished he could forget himself. Oh, for something to do! With nothing but eating and sleeping to break the monotony, life was so dull. He envied the man whom he heard shovelling coal into a neighbor's cellar. He could fancy just how he stooped and gave his shovel a powerful push,
