I have already mentioned the name of the servant whom my grandmother brought with her to our house; it was Jane Painter. She had been with my grandmother for many years, from girlhood I believe, and she was now about thirty years of age. In appearance she was a thin, sharp-featured, pale-faced woman; in manners she was a viciously-minded creature, fond of pinching children on the sly in tender places, assuming the while, to deceive observers, an expression of amiability, which intensified the malignity of her conduct. From the moment she entered our house she became the enemy of every person in it, and waged open and secret war upon all of us. Her service with my grandmother had been a very easy one, but things were different when her mistress changed her residence. She had to do double the work she had been accustomed to, and as we were the direct cause of this, she was not slow in showing resentment. My mother, patient as she always was, made light of the woman's infirmities of temper, believing that she was necessary to my grandmother; Jane Painter, however, declined to accept the olive-branch which my mother held out to her, and would certainly not have remained in the house but for one inducement. This was made clear to us a very few days after the change. My mother had occasion to remonstrate with her for some piece of impertinence, and Jane Painter ran into my grandmother's room in a fury, and demanded to know if she was to be treated like a galley-slave. My mother stood quietly by, listening to the servant's complainings. Said my grandmother, 'You must do what my daughter desires you to do, Jane. I told her you would help her in the house.' 'I won't be ordered about as if I was a bit of dirt!' exclaimed Jane Painter, gasping. 'O Jane!' remonstrated my mother. 'Don't O Jane me!' and then followed the unreasoning argument. 'I'm flesh and blood the same as you are!' 'Jane,' said my grandmother, 'I mustn't be worried; my nerves won't stand it. I sha'n't be here long, and you know what I have promised you.' 'Whose servant am I--yours or hers?' 'Mine, Jane, and a very good servant you've been. I hope for your own sake you are not going to be different now.' 'Haven't I served you faithfully?' asked Jane Painter, sobbing herself into a quieter emotional stage. 'Yes, Jane, yes; and you shall be remembered for it.' 'Haven't I waited on you hand and foot?' 'Yes, Jane, yes; and you shall be remembered.' 'When you was took bad with the spasms,' blubbered Jane, didn't I stop up with you all night till I was fit to drop?' 'Yes, Jane; and I haven't forgotten you for it. You shall be remembered, I tell you.'