"I've heard of jewels," said Bessie, thinking of the two Thaddeus
and she had begun their married life with, "but they've always
seemed to me to be paste emeralds--awfully green, and not worth
much."

"There's no paste emerald about Bradley's girl," said Thaddeus.
"Why, he says that woman has been in Mrs. Bradley's employ for seven
weeks now, and she hasn't broken a bit of china; never sweeps dust
under the beds or bureaus; keeps the silver polished so that it
looks as if it were solid; gets up at six every morning; cooks well;
is civil, sober, industrious; has no hangers-on--"

"Is Mr. Bradley a realist or a romancer?" asked Bessie.

"Why do you ask that?" replied Thaddeus.

"That jewel story sounds like an Arabian Nights tale," said Bessie.
"I don't believe that it is more than half true, and that half is
exaggerated."

"Well, it IS true," said Thaddeus. "And, what is more, the girl
helps in the washing, plays with the children, and on her days out
she stays at home and does sewing."

Bessie laughed. "She must be a regular Koh-i-noor," she said. "I
suppose Mr. Bradley pays her a thousand dollars a month."

"No, he doesn't; he pays her twelve," said Thaddeus.