"No, Mrs. Belknap; I have not," replied Jane, expecting no less than an instant dismissal after this damaging statement. To her great surprise the lady closed her book with a slight shrug of her shapely shoulders. "The matter of wages we discussed last night," she said tentatively. "Now I am expecting Mrs. Whittaker to wash this morning; you will put the kitchen to rights as quickly as you can. And remember, Jane, that although you have no references I shall soon be able to find out just what sort of a girl you are. I am not easily deceived." This improving conversation was interrupted by the arrival at the back door of a tall, thin, dyspeptic-looking person attired in a rusty black gown and a dispirited hat, both of which articles of attire had obviously seen better days. "Good mornin', Mis' Belknap," began this individual, with a trenchant sniff, as she divested herself of her draggled black skirt, which was thus revealed as a sort of drop curtain concealing a scant gingham wrapper beneath, girt about the waist with a decent checkered apron. Mrs. Belknap displayed her white teeth in a winning smile as she replied. "And this is my new maid, Jane Blythe," she added, indicating that young person with an affable gesture. "My! you ain't tellin' me that Mary MacGrotty's left you?" exclaimed Mrs. Whittaker in a sympathizing tone; "as good an' kind as you've be'n to her! I sh'd think she'd be 'shamed to treat you so mean. As I says to m' 'usband this mornin', 'Mary MacGrotty,' I says, 'don't know when she's well off, a-livin' with that sweet young lady.'" "I expect Mary back within a few days," Mrs. Belknap said guardedly. "She's away just now." Mrs. Whittaker bent over the tubs with a deep, discouraged sigh. "M' back's mos' broke this mornin'," she observed, flapping a wet sheet on the board and lathering it freely with soap; "but what with five childern to work fer, an' m' 'usband out o' work since Christmas, it comes pretty hard on a body. Was you expectin' to stay right along?" "Were you speaking to me?" asked Jane coldly. Mrs. Whittaker cast a guarded glance about the kitchen. "She's gone; ain't she? She ain't plannin' to keep _two_, is she?" Jane made no reply. Mrs. Whittaker gazed at her for a moment with her soapy arms akimbo. "You won't like it here," she said at last. "I c'n see that without ha'f lookin'. _She's turrible to work fur._ _I_ couldn't stan' her--more'n fur a day now an' then. As I tell m' 'usband, I wasn't made to be bossed by nobody. I'm awful proud an' independent, an' _she_ thinks she's the hull thing. I guess if she knew all 'at I know 'bout the goin's on in this 'ere kitchen she wouldn't be quite so uppity." A light step at the door announced the hasty return of Mrs. Belknap; Mrs. Whittaker was discovered diligently rubbing, with a sad, but resigned, expression of countenance.