light casualness with which I finished negotiations, had been overdone. Indeed, doubts assailed me in the remembered presence of this magnificent creature as to whether I could really lay claim to being a lady myself or not!
I made it a point to keep away from the laundry on the days she was there. It wasn't sentiment altogether, though I tried to put it down to that, but an unpleasant feeling of social dislocation. It produced distinctly disagreeable sensations to see those rounded arms bared to the elbow, and those shapely hands swollen and reddened with soap and water—my soap and water—and I don't like feeling inferior in my own house. Besides, what was the use of going? My nature argued with my avocation. It would only be an anomaly if not an actual intrusion, to tell a Madonna, even though merely a Madonna of tubs, how to conduct the renovation of your soiled linen. So I gave in, for I am a weak creature at best, ruled by the wants of life as much as by the oughts, and kept a safe distance from the laundry on wash-days. I issued instructions (unnecessary ones) to Janet that Mrs. Montrose was never to be allowed to leave without a good meal, and I left the money always in a
