have been granted if the coals had not yielded a profit of threepence
a scuttleful), and Clara, therefore, asked if she could not have the
kettle upstairs. Again Maria disappeared and returned.

'Mrs Cork says, miss, as it's very ill-convenient as the kettle is
cleaned up agin to-morrow, and if you can do without it she will be
obliged.'

It was of no use to continue the contest, and Clara bethought herself
of a little 'Etna' she had in her bedroom. She went to the
druggist's, bought some methylated spirit, and obtained what she
wanted.

Mrs Cork had one virtue and one weakness. Her virtue was
cleanliness, but she persecuted the 'blacks,' not because she
objected to dirt as dirt, but because it was unauthorised, appeared
without permission at irregular hours, and because the glittering
polish on varnished paint and red mahogany was a pleasure to her.
She liked the dirt, too, in a way, for she enjoyed the exercise of
her ill-temper on it and the pursuit of it to destruction. Her
weakness was an enormous tom-cat which had a bell round its neck and
slept in a basket in the kitchen, the best-behaved and most moral cat
in the parish. At half-past nine every evening it was let out into
the back-yard and vanished. At ten precisely it was heard to mew and
was immediately admitted. Not once in a twelvemonth did that cat
prolong its love making after five minutes to ten.

Mrs Hopgood went upstairs to her room, Mrs Cork following and closing
the door.