For more than a fortnight now, she and Irene had inaugurated a new state of affairs at the Vicarage, and, to her surprise, she found that she was growing to enjoy the work. She certainly enjoyed the results, and felt proud of them. And, oh, how proud and happy she was when her father remarked on the improvement. There were disagreeables too; there was no denying the fact. And one of them was the uncomfortable roughness of her hands. "Rub them with salt," advised Irene, briskly, as she hung the shining jugs and cups on their hooks on the dressers. "Then rub some cold cream or glycerine into them." "But I don't keep a chemist's shop," laughed Audrey. "I have only a little glycerine." "Well, that is splendid if it suits you. Rub some into your hands while they are wet, and then rinse it off again. When I have my own little house I shall have a shelf put up close to where I wash my dishes, and vases, and things----" "Close by the tap, and the sink, and the draining-board," interrupted Audrey, eyeing their own. "Yes, close by, and I shall keep on it a bottle of glycerine, a cake of pumice soap, some lemon and glycerine mixed, and--oh, one or two other things that I shall think of presently. And every time I wash my hands I shall rub in a little glycerine--then my skin will keep quite nice. Of course, I shall have a whole array of gloves to put on when I do dirty work. I shall have silver-cleaning gloves, black-leading gloves, dusting gloves, and gardening gloves." "How will you get them? Buy them?" "Oh, no. I shall use my own old ones, and I shall beg some of grandfather. One can easily get old gloves. I have begun to collect some already." "I can't, they are almost as hard to get as new ones. You see, we wear ours, just every-day wear, until they are past being good for anything. And father never wears any, except woolly ones in very cold weather, and they are too thick and clumsy for housework." "Um, yes. I will send you some of grandfather's. He uses a lot, he rides so much. When I have my house----" Audrey laughed. "That wonderful house of yours! How perfect it will be!" "It will be a perfect dear; but I don't want it to be perfect in any other way--not at first, I mean. I want to make it so. Well, as I was saying when you rudely interrupted me by scoffing--when I have a house of my own, you shall come to stay with me, and you shall have breakfast in bed every morning; and you shall not touch a duster, or wash a dish, or make a bed. Oh, Audrey! it is going to be such a dear little gem of a place, with large sunny windows opening on to the garden, and a balcony outside each bedroom." "How lovely!" sighed Audrey. "I wish you had it now. I'd love to be sitting in one of your balconies, looking down at your flowers. Of course, you would have crowds of flowers?" "Oh, crowds--and apple-blossom, and honeysuckle, and pear and cherry trees."