a laugh,--"I think not. I had one trial of you in that
respect; it was enough."

"But all maids do their young ladies' hair, don't they, miss? I doubt
they will altogether look down upon me when they find I can't do even
that."

"I shall ring for you every day when I come to dress for dinner. Once
in my room, who shall know whether you do my hair or not? And I
faithfully promise you, Sarah, to take such pains with the performance
myself as shall compel every one in the house to admire it and envy me
my excellent maid. 'See Miss Massereene's hair!' they will say, in
tearful whispers. 'Oh, that I too could have a Sarah!' By the bye, call
me Miss Massereene for the future, not Miss Molly,--at least until we
get home again."

"Yes, Miss--Massereene. Law! it do sound odd," says Sarah, with a
little respectful laugh, "but high-sounding too, I think. I do hope I
shan't forget it, Miss Molly. Perhaps you will be good enough to remind
me when I go wrong?"

A knock at the door prevents reply. Molly cries out, "Come in," and,
turning, finds herself face to face with a fine old woman, who stands
erect, and firm, in spite of her many years, in the doorway. She is
clad in a sombre gown of brown silk, and has an old-fashioned chain
round her neck that hangs far below her waist, which is by no means the
most contemptible portion of her.

"I beg your pardon, Miss Massereene; I could not resist coming to see
if you were quite comfortable," she says, respectfully.

"Quite, thank you," replies Molly, in a degree puzzled. "You
are"--smiling--"the housekeeper?"

"I am. And you, my dear,"--regarding her anxiously,--"are every inch an
Amherst, in spite of your bonny blue eyes. You will forgive the freedom
of my speech," says this old dame, with an air that would not have
disgraced a duchess, "when I tell you I nursed your mother."

"Ah! did you?" says Molly, flushing a little, and coming up to her
eagerly, with both hands extended, to kiss the fair old face that is
smiling so kindly on her. "But how could one think it? You are yet so
fresh, so good to look at."

"Tut, my dear," says the old lady, mightily pleased nevertheless. "I am
old enough to have nursed your grandmother. And now can I do anything
for you?"

"You can," replies Molly, turning toward Sarah, who is regarding them
with an expression that might at any moment mean either approval or
displeasure. "This is my maid. We are both strangers here. Will you see
that she is