any that I should not know about. In this way you will soon learn what I
require of you, and I shall learn a great deal and gradually can launch
out into much more difficult things."

Arabella Clinker had a sense of humor, and she adored her mother and
wished to give her a comfortable old age. Mrs. Cricklander's terms for
this unique position were according to her accustomed liberality.

"I like to give splendid prices for things, and then I expect them to be
splendidly done," she said.

Miss Clinker had promised to do her best, and their partnership had
lasted for nearly three years with the most satisfactory results to both
of them. Their only difficulty was Mrs. Cricklander's defective memory.
She _could not_ learn anything by heart, and if she were at all tired
had to keep herself tremendously in hand to make no mistakes. But the
three years of constant trying had enabled her to talk upon most
subjects in a shibboleth of the world which imposed upon everyone. Her
real talent which called for the greatest admiration was the way in
which she manipulated what she knew, and skimmed a fresh subject. She
would do so with such admirable skill and wording as to give the
impression that she was acquainted with its profoundest depths; and then
when she was safely over the chasm the first moment she was free she
would rush to Arabella for the salient points, doggedly repeat them over
and over, and on the next occasion come out with them to the same
person, convincing him more than ever of her thorough knowledge of the
subject. But her memory was her misfortune, for if Miss Clinker
instructed her, for instance, in all the different peculiarities of the
styles of Keats and Shelley, a week after she would have forgotten which
was which--because both bored her to distraction--and she would have to