exceptions to this rule, but none whatever
on Alfaretta's. The lad was at once her delight and her torment; in his
wilder moods teasing her relentlessly, but in his more thoughtful ones
pitying her for her hard lot in life. Yet, in fact, since the girl had
been taken from the "county farm" to serve Madam Sturtevant until she
should be eighteen, she was scarcely poorer than the mistress who
employed her, and who scrupulously shared her own comforts with her
charge.

Big as the house was, there was very little money in it. None whatever
would have been there save for the generosity of distant relatives who
regularly sent a small cheque to the Madam, as well as a box of clothing
for the grandson; nor did they even dream that upon that cheque and the
neighborly kindness of Eunice Maitland the household at the mansion
existed.

Fortunately, for the present, Alfaretta demanded nothing in the matter
of wages. When she should be eighteen the, to her, almost fabulous sum
of one hundred dollars would be her due as well as a decent "fitting
out" of wearing apparel. Then she would be free to go or stay, work for
"real wages" for this mistress, or engage herself to another. But
eighteen was a long way off as yet, and though sometimes a wonder as to
where she should get the pledged one hundred dollars did cross Madam
Sturtevant's mind, she put the thought aside as soon as possible.
Sufficient unto that day would be its own evil, and there had been days
in the past far more evil than Alfy's coming of age could ever be.

Had relic-hunters known it the Mansion was a storehouse of genuine
"antiques" which would have been eagerly purchased at fancy prices; but
Marsden was far out of the line of such persons, and, save in extreme
necessity, the old gentlewoman would have refused to part with her
belongings.

Eunice, who was better informed on such matters because of her wider
reading, had once delicately suggested to her friend that such or such
an old "claw-foot" was worth a deal of money, and that it wasn't really
necessary to have four tall clocks, each more than a century old,
ticking the hours away in that empty house.

But her suggestion was wholly misunderstood. Madam had rather crisply
replied that she was perfectly capable of winding the clocks on the one
day in eight when they required it, and hoped to continue so till her
life's end. Indeed, it had used to be a rather formal little household
ceremony--that winding of the