drooms in perfect order, and was going to her own room to
change her dress and make herself tidy, it was very annoying to hear
Polly, in a peremptory tone, desiring her to give her the keys of the
linen-press.

"For," said that young lady, "I'm going to look through the towels this
morning, Susan, to see which of them want darning, and you had better
stay with me, to take away those that have thin places in them."

"Oh, dear me, Miss Polly," said Susan, rather pertly, "the towels is
seen to in the proper rotation. You needn't be a fretting your head
about 'em, miss. This ain't the morning for the linen-press, miss. It's
done at its proper time and hour."

"Give me the key at once, Susan, and don't answer," said Polly. "There,
hold your apron--I'll throw the towels in. What a lot--I don't believe
we want half as many. When I take the reins of office next week, I'll
put away quite half of these towels. There can't be waste going on in
the house--I won't have it, not when I housekeep, at any rate. Susan,
wasn't that a little round speck of a hole in that towel? Ah, I thought
so. You put it aside, Susan, you'll have to darn it this afternoon. Now
then, let me see, let me see."

Polly worked vigorously through the towels, holding them up to the light
to discover their thin places, pinching them in parts, and feeling their
texture between her finger and thumb. In the end she pronounced about a
dozen unworthy of domestic service, and Susan was desired to spend her
afternoon in repairing them.

"I can't, then, Miss Polly," said the much injured housemaid. "It ain't
neither the day nor the hour, and I haven't got one scrap of proper
darning thread left."

"I'll go to the village, then, and get some," said Polly. "It's only a
mile away. Things can't be neglected--it isn't right. Take the towels,
Susan, and let me find them mended to-morrow morning;" and the young
lady tripped off with a very bright color in her cheeks, and the key of
the linen-press in her pocket.

Her next visit was to the kitchen regions.

"Oh, Mrs. Power," she said to the cook, "I've come to see the stores. It
isn't right that they shouldn't be looked into, is it, in case of
anything falling short. Fancy if you were run out of pearl barley, Mrs.
Power, or allspice, or nutmegs, or mace. Oh, dear, it makes me quite
shiver to think of it! What a mess you would be in, if you hadn't all
your ingredients handy, in case you were making a plum-cake, or some o