It was certain that nothing would induce her to spend an idle afternoon, and she would therefore be driven to exercise her brain on the problem. I threatened her with every sort of violent and painful death, including a famine of pins, if she altered a single fold, and when I came home in the evening the dress was skilfully arranged. Miss McGregor is quite sure that if I would slip the things on fourteen times a day between meals she would understand better what I wanted, but I know for a fact she is wrong. An industrious clerk might as well say to a poet: “If you tell me what you want to say in your poem I will write it for you and you can run your eye over it every ten minutes to see if it is right.” James says that, so far as he can understand my criticism of Miss McGregor, that is just about what I expect her to do, otherwise why can’t I make the dress myself like the poet makes his poem. But it is well known that only unreasonable people achieve miracles. FOOTNOTES: [A] See chapter xiv. _CHAPTER XIX_: THE LADY’S MAID Louise was a treasure: more than that, she _is_ a treasure, for I have her still, and love her the more since it became a certainty that she would not marry Perrin. I forget whose fault it was that I got a maid for myself. Probably Perrin was at the bottom of it; in fact, now I come to think of it, I remember that I began to find it increasingly difficult to get the upper housemaid to fold up my clothes after I had dressed for dinner. That undoubtedly was owing to Perrin’s influence. Before he came there was always plenty of amusement for the housemaid in my room. She added finishing-touches to her hair in front of my big looking-glass, she experimented with the pots and pans on the toilet table, she tried on my hats--I came unexpectedly into my room one day and noticed that she was putting away three hats which I had not worn for a week. I remarked how annoying it was the way hats would hop about a room, and apologised for the trouble they were giving her. She covered me with moral dust and ashes by the pleasant smile with which she answered, as she straightened her hair, that it was no trouble, she enjoyed handling pretty things, so I was obliged to give her one of the hats to show my repentance. After that I vowed that never again would I trifle with sacred feminine instincts. She was so pretty I am not surprised that Perrin sent for her in the evenings to talk to him while he made George wash up, but it was very inconvenient for me. I nearly asked him to let me have her for half an hour, and I would tell the under housemaid to turn down the beds a little earlier, so that she could sit with him until Lizzie was ready, and then I thought that perhaps he might not like it, and I had better engage a maid of my own. Besides, a maid would save having that bitty dressmaker in the house; so Louise came. Why Perrin never took to her I did not at first understand, though I accepted the fact with secret gratitude.