was against both of us.

There is something positively uncanny in the way misfortune lies in
wait for that girl. You would think that after causing her to break
two full breakfast services it would leave her alone for a while. But
no; she was half-way through the third before her luck showed any signs
of changing.

Spilling the salt accounted for three burnt saucepans and the collapse
of the plate rack (at the moment fully charged); while seeing the new
moon through glass caused her to overlook the fact that she had left a
can in the middle of the staircase. Afterwards (during the week that I
waited on her on account of her sprained ankle) she said she would
never go near a window again until the moon was at full and quite safe.

Of course, I do my best to parry these mysterious blows of Fate. I
remember when she first undertook to clean the drawing-room I took away
everything that a mysterious agency might cause to 'come in two' in her
hands. I left her alone with the grand piano and scrubbing materials,
and went out to spend the afternoon with cheerful countenance. I
returned rather late, and directly Elizabeth opened the door to me I
saw that something was wrong.

'I've been unlucky,' she began.

'Unlucky!' I faltered. 'But what with? Don't say the piano came in
two in your hands?'

'It wasn't my 'ands, it was my feet. The floor gave way an' I went
through.'