Bel Bree had got her arm round little Sinsie, who had crept up to her side inquisitively; and Kate was making a funny face over her shoulder at Marmaduke, alternately with the pleased attentive glance she gave to his pretty young mother and her speaking.

“Yes’m,” Bel answered.  “We want places.  We are sewing-girls.  We have lost our work by the fire, and we were getting tired of it before.  We have made up our minds to try families.  We want a real place to live, you see.  And we want to go together, so as to make our own place.  We mightn’t like things just as they happened, where there was others.”

Mrs. Scherman’s own face lighted up afresh.  This was something that did not happen every day.  She grew cordial with a pleased surprise.  “Do you think you could?  Do you know about housework, about cooking?”

“It’s very good of you to put it in that way,” said Kate Sencerbox.  “We just do know about it, and perhaps that’s all, at present.  But we’re Yankees, and we mean to know.”

“And you would like to experiment with me?”

“Well, it wouldn’t be altogether experiment, from the very beginning,” said Bel.  “I’m sure I can make good bread, and tea, and toast, and broil chickens or steaks; I can stew up sauces, I can do oysters.  I can make a splendid huckleberry pudding!  We had one every Sunday all last August.”

“Where?” asked Asenath, gravely.

“In our room; Aunt Blin and I. Aunt Blin died just after the fire,” said Bel, simply.

Asenath’s gravity grew sweeter and more real; the tremulous twinkle quieted in her eyes.

“I don’t know what to answer you, exactly,” she said, presently.  “This is just what we housekeepers have been saying ought to happen:  and now that it does happen, I feel afraid of taking you in.  It is very odd; but the difficulties on your side begin to come to me.  I have no doubt that on my side it would be lovely.  But have you thought about this ‘real place to live’ that you want? what it would have to be?  Do you think you would be contented in a kitchen?  And the washing?  Our washings are so large, with all these little children!”

Yes, it was odd.  Without waiting to be catechised, or resenting beforehand the spirit of jealous inquiry, Asenath Scherman was frankly putting it in the heads of these unused applicants that there might be doubts as to her service suiting them.

“I suppose we could do anything reasonable,” said Kate Sencerbox.

“I wonder if it is reasonable!” said Mrs. Scherman.  “Mr. Scherman has six shirts a week, and the children’s things count up fearfully, and the ironing is nice work.  I’m afraid you wouldn’t think you had any time left for living.  The clothes hardly ever all come up before Thursday morning.”

“And the cooking and all are just the same those days?” asked Kate.

“Why yes, pretty nearly, except just Mondays.  Monday always has to be rather awful.  But after that, we do expect to live.  We couldn’t hold our breaths till Thursday.”