brushes and boots?"

"It seems unsuitable, I grant. But they do. I've seen them when I've
been locking up. On the floor. In a wooden box. Carrots and turnips,
and potatoes in their skins."

Grizel straightened herself determinedly, and attacked her breakfast.

"I shall _never_ visit the scullery!" she said firmly. "It would spoil
my appetite. Thank you so much for warning me, ducky doo!"

"Not at all. It was an exhortation. The cook will expect it of you.
So shall I. You must kindly remember the sink."

"I take your word for it. Suppose there is? What in the name of
fortune has it to do with me?"

"It's your sink, Madam. Part of your new-found responsibilities. I
don't wish to harrow your susceptibilities, but it might not be kept
clean. It is for you to see that it is."

"You should have told me that afore, Laddie!" warbled Grizel
reproachfully. "Nobody never warned me I should have to poke about
sinks! And I won't neither. It's a waste of skilled labour. Aren't
there lots of sanitary kind of people who make their living by that sort
of work? Let's have one to look after ours!"

"Every morning?"

"Why not? Every evening too, if you like."

Martin burst into a roar of laughter, and stretched a hand across the
table.

"You're a goose, Grizel; an impracticable little goose. I'm afraid we
shall never make a Martha of you." Then suddenly his face fell, and the
caressing touch strengthened into a grasp. "You shouldn't have to do
it," he cried sharply. "It isn't fair. You've been a miracle of
generosity to me, darling, but when it comes to facing the stern
realities of life, I wonder if I ought to have let you do it."

"You couldn't help yourself," Grizel said calmly. "I asked you, and you
couldn't for shame say no. Give me back my hand, dear. I want it, to
go on eating. I do love having breakfast with you in our very own
house, and I must make it last as long as possible, as I shan't see you
again for four whole hours. ... What shall we do after lunch?"

"Er--generally--if I'm in the mood--I go on writing till five o'clock."

Martin spoke with hesitation, as though fearing a reproach, and Grizel
narrowed her eyes, and smiled; a slow, enigmatical smile, but spoke not
one rude word. She had quite decided that Martin should not be in the
mood!

"On Wednesday and Thursday I'm to be At Home!" was her next irrelevant
remark. "We put fifteenth and sixteenth on our cards, and now th