To say the truth, I was quite delighted when I saw my dear husband clear out of the house with that odious Tom in his hand; for really our household expenses had been so heavy for the last two or three weeks, that I hadn’t been able to get even so much as a bit of riband out of the money that Edward allowed me to keep the house with. And upon my word, what with my husband’s being so dreadfully close-fisted as he was--and Mrs. Burgess’s not being able to keep her fingers off anything--and that Tom’s love of clawing hold of whatever he came near, I declare I had been so dreadfully pinched of late, that I positively didn’t know which way to turn, and it made me so uneasy that I couldn’t rest in my bed. Besides, to be tied down to a penny as I was, was such an uncomfortable position for a body to be in, that I felt it was high time for me to get up and look about me; and I even began to have serious thoughts of keeping all the kitchen stuff to myself, for I was sure that our maid must get at least a new silk bonnet every year out of our dripping pan--and that too, when I would willingly have given my own head for it. Moreover, dear mother had advised me always to keep a sharp eye fixed on our grease-pot; for if I didn’t, I should find that every bit of candle I had in the house would run away as fast as if there was a thief in it, as the maids would take very good care that I hadn’t any “dips” of a morning in my candle box, and that my “compositions” would never be more than five and six in the pound.