When Marta came down Molly weighed out six ounces of butter and eight ounces of flour—the butter was straight from the ice-box and very firm; these she put together in a chopping-bowl with a pinch of salt, opened the window to let in the cool air, and then chopped butter and flour together, but not very fine, the butter still remaining in well-defined bits, some as large as white beans, when she left off. Making a hole in the centre, she poured in a _small_ half cup of ice-water, and made it, with as little pressure as possible, into a firm dough. A few bits of butter and flour fell from it, but she did not stay to work them in smoothly, explaining to Marta, as she turned all out on to the pastry-board, that they would roll in smooth, and the less handling the pastry had the better. She rolled it out half an inch thick, folded it in three, putting any little flakes of butter that might be on the board upon it, and rolled it out again. (This was done as quickly as possible, so that the warm air of the kitchen might not soften the butter.) She dredged very little flour on it, and folded it again in three, rolled it again, and then once more folded and rolled it, making three times in all. “Now, if I were in a hurry, I should use the pastry at once, as it is ready, but it will be so much lighter and better by being put on the ice that I shall leave it till I come out to see to the dinner. I will have cold lamb and salad for my lunch,—you know how to prepare the lettuce.” And Molly left the kitchen, knowing she had now some hours in which she could attend to getting things into place, etc. Hardly was her luncheon cleared away, however, when Marta brought in a card, saying a lady had given it to her, but she didn’t know what she wanted. It bore the name of Mrs. Merit, and realizing that the visitor was left standing at the front door, Molly hurried out to receive her. She apologized for Marta’s keeping her there. “Don’t mention it. This is a very early call; but coming into a furnished house is so different from an empty one,—you get settled in a few hours; besides, I knew this was your first experience of housekeeping, and if one wants to be of real use it is of no use to leave it till your difficulties are over.” The lady had followed Molly into the parlor as she spoke, and seated herself in the rocking-chair. “You are very kind,” said Molly, thinking how very friendly it was. “I mean to be kind, my dear. I know the difficulties of inexperienced young housekeepers, and I want you to know that your nearest neighbor is ready to run right in any time you want, and if there’s anything I can tell you, why, you know where to come.” “Thank you very much indeed,” said Molly gratefully; “I shall not forget.” The conversation now drifted off into talk about Greenfield, and Molly learned the names of most of her near neighbors, and, it must be confessed, more of their peculiarities than she cared to hear.