Isabella gladly availed herself of this kindness, which touched
her to the heart, amid so much of an opposite spirit. When
Isabella had put the potatoes over to boil, Getty told her she
would herself tend the fire, while Isabel milked. She had not
long been seated by the fire, in performance of her promise,
when Kate entered, and requested Gertrude to go out of the
room and do something for her, which she refused, still keeping
her place in the corner. While there, Kate came sweeping about
the fire, caught up a chip, lifted some ashes with it, and dashed
them into the kettle. Now the mystery was solved, the plot
discovered! Kate was working a little too fast at making her
mistress's words good, at showing that Mrs. Dumont and herself
were on the right side of the dispute, and consequently at gaining
power over Isabella. Yes, she was quite too fast, inasmuch as
she had overlooked the little figure of justice, which sat in the
comer, with scales nicely balanced, waiting to give all their dues.

But the time had come when she was to be overlooked no
longer. It was Getty's turn to speak now. 'Oh Poppee! oh
Poppee!' said she, 'Kate has been putting ashes in among the
potatoes! I saw her do it! Look at those that fell on the outside
of the kettle! You can now see what made the potatoes so dingy
every morning, though Bell washed them clean!' And she repeated
her story to every new comer, till the fraud was made as
public as the censure of Isabella had been. Her mistress looked
blank, and remained dumb-her master muttered something
which sounded very like an oath-and poor Kate was so chop-fallen, she
looked like a convicted criminal, who would gladly
have hid herself, (now that the baseness was out,) to conceal her