On Tuesday she had mastered her fear sufficiently to go into the kitchen and make a cottage cheese. She did not notice the unfavorable glances of her maid-of-all-work. Wednesday morning she spent happily puttering over "doing up" some handkerchiefs, and she wondered why Nancy kept banging the oven door so often. Thursday she made a special kind of pie that Reuben liked, and remarked pointedly to Nancy that she herself never washed dishes without wearing an extra apron; furthermore, she always placed the pans the other way in the sink. Friday she rearranged the tins on the pantry shelves, that Nancy had so unaccountably mussed up. On Saturday the inevitable explosion came: "If you please, mum, I'm willin' to do your work, but seems to me it don't make no difference to you whether I wear one apron or six, or whether I hang my dish-towels on a string or on the bars, or whether I wash goblets or kittles first; and I ain't in the habit of havin' folks spyin' round on me. If you want me to go, I'll go; but if I stay, I want to be let alone!" Poor little Mrs. Gray fled to her seat in the parlor, and for the rest of that winter she did not dare to call her soul her own; but her table was beautifully set and served, and her house was as neat as wax. The weeks passed and Reuben began to be restless. One day he came in from the post office fairly bubbling over with excitement. "Say, Em'ly, when folks have money they travel. Let's go somewhere!" "Why, Reuben--where?" quavered his wife, dropping into the nearest chair. "Oh, I dunno," with cheerful vagueness; then, suddenly animated, "Let's go to Boston and see the sights!" "But, Reuben, we don't know no one there," ventured his wife doubtfully. "Pooh! What if we don't? Hain't we got money? Can't we stay at a hotel? Well, I guess we can!" And his overwhelming courage put some semblance of confidence into the more timid heart of his wife, until by the end of the week she was as eager as he. Nancy was tremblingly requested to take a two weeks' vacation, and great was the rejoicing when she graciously acquiesced. On a bright February morning the journey began. It was not a long one--four hours only--and the time flew by as on wings of the wind. Reuben assumed an air of worldly wisdom, quite awe-inspiring to his wife. He had visited Boston as a boy, and so had a dim idea of what to expect; moreover, he had sold stock and produce in the large towns near his home, and on the whole felt quite self-sufficient. As the long train drew into the station, and they alighted and followed the crowd, Mrs. Gray looked with round eyes of wonder at the people--she had not realized that there were so many in the world, and she clung closer and closer to Reuben, who was marching along with a fine show of indifference. "There," said he, as he deposited his wife and his bags in a seat in the huge waiting-room; "now you stay right here, an' don't you move. I'm goin' to find out about hotels and things."