Justine Harrison, graduate servant of the American School of
Domestic Science, arrived the next day. If Mrs. Salisbury was half
consciously cherishing an expectation of some one as crisp and
cheerful as a trained nurse might have been, she was disappointed.
Justine was simply a nice, honest-looking American country girl, in
a cheap, neat, brown suit and a dreadful hat. She smiled
appreciatively when Alexandra showed her her attractive little room,
unlocked what Sandy saw to be a very orderly trunk, changed her hot
suit at once for the gray gingham uniform, and went to Mrs.
Salisbury's room with great composure, for instructions. In passing,
Alexandra--feeling the situation to be a little odd, yet bravely,
showed her the back stairway and the bathroom, and murmured
something about books being in the little room off the drawing-room
downstairs. Justine smiled brightly.

"Oh, I brought several books with me," she said, "and I subscribe to
two weekly magazines and one monthly. So usually I have enough to
read."

"How do you do? You look very cool and comfortable, Justine. Now,
you'll have to find your own way about downstairs. You'll see the
coffee next to the bread box, and the brooms are in the laundry
closet. Just do the best you can. Mr. Salisbury likes dry toast in
the morning--eggs in some way. We get eggs from the milkman; they
seem fresher. But you have to tell him the day before. And I
understood that you'll do most of the washing? Yes. My old Nancy was
here day before yesterday, so there's not much this week." It was in
some such disconnected strain as this that Mrs. Salisbury welcomed