"Please, mem, a mouse has eat a hole in one of your handsome
napkins,--them as I was to wash agin the company you're expectin'
to-morrow night. By rights it should be mended before it's washed."

"Bring it to the sewing-room."

When the neat piece of darning was ended, the housekeeper repaired to
the closet to put on a loose writing-sack. On the nail next to the
jacket hung her winter coat. On the edge of the sleeve was a tiny
hole. The housewifely spirit was filled with dread. There were
actually _moths_ in that closet! She must attend to it immediately.
The woolens ought to be put up if moths had already appeared. John's
clothes and the boys' winter coats were in great danger of being
ruined. By lunch time the necessary brushing and doing up were ended.
But in stowing away the winter garments in the attic, our heroine was
appalled at the confusion among the trunks. The garret needed
attention, and received it as soon as the noonday meal was dispatched.
At four o'clock, with the waitress' assistance, the task was
completed. About the same time a note arrived from John saying he
would be obliged to bring two of his old friends--"swell
bachelors"--who were spending the day in town, to dine with him that
night. She "must not put herself to any trouble about dinner, and he
would take them to the theatre in the evening." To the dinner already
ordered were added oyster-pâtés, salad, with mayonnaise dressing,
salted almonds, and, instead of the plain pudding that John liked, was
a pie of which he was still more fond, capped by black coffee, all of
which articles, except the last-named, were prepared by the hostess,
who, in faultless toilette, with remarkably brilliant color, smilingly
welcomed her husband and his guests to the half-past six dinner. When