His quick eye noticed the swept floor and the
evanishment of disorder. "Hello! What's this clean through a fall
house-cleaning? I'm not the only member of the firm that has been working.
Dishes washed, floor swept, bed made, kitchen fire lit. You've certainly
been going some, unless the fairies helped you. Aren't you afraid of
blistering these little hands?" he asked gaily, taking one of them in his
and touching the soft palm gently with the tip of his finger.

"I should preserve those blisters in alcohol to show that I've really been
of some use," she answered, happy in his approval.

"Sho! People are made for different uses. Some are fit only to shovel and
dig. Others are here simply to decorate the world. Hard world. Hard work
is for those who can't give society anything else, but beauty is its own
excuse for being," he told her breezily.

"Now that's the first compliment you have given me," she pouted prettily.
"I can get them in plenty back in the drawing-rooms where I am supposed to
belong. We're to be real comrades here, and compliments are barred."

"I wasn't complimenting you," he maintained. "I was merely stating a
principle of art."

"Then you mustn't make your principles of art personal, sir. But since you
have, I'm going to refute the application of your principle and show how
useful I've been. Now, sir, do you know what provisions we have outside of
those you have just brought?"

He knew exactly, since he had investigated during the night. That they