Fortunately no further opportunities presented themselves to Mr. Bettyman, and I found him a very pleasant, well-informed person, capable of being as entertaining as he had been in the beginning disagreeable. Two more delightful days I never passed, when on the third morning I heard Mr. Bettyman give orders to take back his rockaway to the stable, as he intended remaining at home for the day. Isabel lifted her hands in dismay, as he leant out of the window, and I guessed that we were to be favored with some more of his attempts at housekeeping. Ah! and so we were! I saw him enter Josy’s pantry, putting on a light blouse, and soon after he came in to us, his head pretty well powdered. He had been at the flour-barrel! “My dear! the flour goes very fast. Two weeks since that barrel was opened, and there is, I can assure you, a very large portion gone. How much do you give out for the day? I’m sure that five pints ought to be sufficient for our use.” “I do not think it can be wasted, Edwin,” said his wife, rising hastily, as though prepared for some announcements. “I’ll go and see myself.” “No, _I_ will speak to Maria about it,” replied he, obligingly. Poor Josy! how much she dreaded his being laughed at by his servants—but Isabel was there ever ready to protect her. “Stop, Edwin!” said she, meeting my eye, and looking so arch that I had to smile and turn away. “_Ellen_ eats a great deal of bread, and perhaps Maria found it necessary to use more flour in consequence. I think she is excusable if she takes _more_ than five pints.” Poor Mr. Bettyman! He piqued himself upon his exceeding politeness, and had Isabel given him a galvanic shock he could not have felt it worse. After expressing his surprise at her injustice, he turned to me with so many explanations and apologies that but for the good lesson taught him, I could have been half angry at my friend’s zeal for his improvement. At all events, he was stopped in his visit to Maria, and returning to the pantry, armed with a dusting brush, very industriously applied himself to cleaning every shelf, and peeping carefully behind each row of china, glassware, and jars, assured that no one ever peeped so effectually before. At dinner he appeared much fatigued as well he might; and after entertaining us and improving himself with a discourse upon the manner in which a house should be governed, he turned to his wife. “I did not see the cheese in the jar, my dear, when I was examining the pantry. Certainly, you cannot have used all that I sent home but a short time since.” Josephine colored deeply, and paused a while before answering. At length she took courage, “It grew mouldy, Edwin, and I sent it into the kitchen. I did not think—” He clasped his hands in apparent agony of mind. “In the kitchen! That delightful old cheese that would have kept for months! Do you know, my dear, what such cheese as that costs?”