When Miss Amanda had selected her from among the girls at "The Home,"
the motherly matron felt sorry.

"She is a tender-hearted little thing, and a kind word goes a great way
with Elsie."

Miss Amanda looked at the matron as if she were speaking Greek, and said
nothing. It was quite plain that few words, either kind or unkind, would
pass Miss Amanda's lips. But "The Home" was more than full, and Miss
Amanda Armstrong was a person well known as the leading dressmaker in
the city, a person of some money; not obliged to work now if she didn't
wish to. "If cold, she is at least perfectly just," they all said.

So Elsie went to work for Miss Amanda, and lived in the kitchen. She
waited on the door, washed the dishes, cleaned the vegetables, and set
the table (Miss Amanda lived alone, and ate in the kitchen). Every
Friday she swept the house. Her bed was in a little room in the back
attic.

When she came, Miss Amanda handed her a dress and petticoat, and a pair
of shoes. "These are to last six months," she said, "and see you keep
yourself clean." She gave her also one change of stockings and
underclothes.

"Here is your room; you do not need a light to go to bed by, and it is
not healthy to sleep under too many covers."

It wasn't so much what Miss Amanda did to her, for she never struck her,
nor in any way ill-treated her; nor was it so much what she said, for
she said almost nothing. But she said it all in commands, and the loving