"Twenty-five a week, then!" Alexandra said, closing the talk by
jumping up from a seat on her mother's bed, and kissing the
invalid's eyes in parting. Justine, who had remained standing,
followed her down to the kitchen, where, with cheering promptitude,
the new maid fell upon preparations for dinner. Alexandra rather
bashfully suggested what she had vaguely planned for dinner; Justine
nodded intelligently at each item; presently Alexandra left her,
busily making butter-balls, and went upstairs to report.

"Nothing sensational about her," said Sandy to her mother, "but she
takes hold! She's got some bleaching preparation of soda or
something drying on the sink-board; she took the shelf out of the
icebox the instant she opened it, and began to scour it while she
talked. She's got a big blue apron on, and she's hung a nice clean
white one on the pantry door."

There was nothing sensational about the tray which Justine carried
up to the sick room that evening--nothing sensational in the dinner
which was served to the diminished family. But the Salisbury family
began that night to speak of Justine as the "Treasure."

"Everything hot and well seasoned and nicely served," said the man
of the house in high satisfaction, "and the woman looks like a
servant, and acts like one. Sandy says she's turning the kitchen
upside down, but, I say, give her her head!"

The Treasure, more by accident than design, was indeed given her
head in the weeks that followed, for Mrs. Salisbury steadily
declined into a real illness, and the worried family was only too