ith her
young man; Mrs. Tressady asked her not to deliver the mail with the
announcement: "Three from New York, an ad from Emville, and one with a
five-cent stamp on it;" she asked her not to shout out from the drive,
"White skirt show?" She said Belle must not ask, "What's he doing?"
when discovering Mr. Tressady deep in a chess problem; Belle must not
drop into a chair when bringing Timmy out to the porch after his
afternoon outing; she must not be heard exclaiming, "Yankee Doodle!"
and "What do you know about that!" when her broom dislodged a spider or
her hair caught on the rose-bushes.

To all of these requests Belle answered, "Sure!" with great penitence
and amiability.

"Sure, Mis' Tress'dy--Say, listen! I can match that insertion I spilled
ink on--in Emville. Isn't that the limit? I can fix it so it'll never
show in the world!"

"I wouldn't stand that girl for--one--minute," said Mrs. Porter to her
husband; but this was some weeks later when the Porters were in a
comfortable Pullman, rushing toward New York.

"I think Molly's afraid of flying in the face of Providence and
discharging her," said Peter Porter--"but praying every day that she'll
go."

This was almost the truth. Belle's loyalty, affection, good nature, and
willingness were beyond price, but Belle's noisiness, her slang, and
her utter lack of training were a sore trial. When November came, with
rains that kept the little household at Rising Water prisoners indoors,
Mrs. Tressady began to think she could not stand Belle much longer.

"My goodness!" Belle would say loudly when sent for to bring a filled
lamp. "Is that other lamp burned out already? Say, listen! I'll give
you the hall lamp while I fill it." "You oughtn't to touch pie just
after one of your headaches!" she would remind her employer in a
respectful aside at dinner. And sometimes when Molly and her husband
were busy in the study a constant stream of conversation would reach
them from the nursery where Belle was dressing Timothy:

"Now where's the boy that's going to let Belle wash his face? Oh, my,
what a good boy! Now, just a minny--minny--minny--that's all. Now give
Belle a sweet, clean kiss--yes, but give Belle a sweet, clean
kiss--give Belle a kiss--oh, Timmy, do you want Belle to cry? Well,
then, give her a kiss--give Belle a sweet kiss--"

When Molly was bathing the boy Belle would come and take a comfortable
chair near by, ready to spring for powder or pins, but otherwise