Wednesdays. On Wednesdays you give your parlour a thorough turn-out
_after_ breakfast, and mind it's got to be all straight for dinner at
half-past twelve."

"Yes, mum."

"I shall show you about your fire-irons--" Mrs. Lessways was continuing
to make everything in the house the private property of Florrie, when
Hilda interrupted her about the handkerchief, and afterwards with an
exhortation to beware of the dampness of the floor, which exhortation
Mrs. Lessways faintly resented; whereupon Hilda left the kitchen; it was
always imprudent to come between Mrs. Lessways and a new servant.

Hilda remained listening in the lobby to the interminable and rambling
instruction. At length Mrs. Lessways said benevolently:

"There's no reason why you shouldn't go to bed at half-past eight, or
nine at the latest. No reason whatever. And if you're quick and handy
--and I'm sure you are--you'll have plenty of time in the afternoon for
plain sewing and darning. I shall see how you can darn," Mrs. Lessways
added encouragingly.

"Yes, mum."

Hilda's heart revolted, less against her mother's defects as an
organizer than against the odious mess of the whole business of
domesticity. She knew that, with her mother in the house, Florrie would
never get to bed at half-past eight and very seldom at nine, and that
she would never be free in the afternoons. She knew that if her mother
would only consent to sit still and not interfere, the housework could