had been left to the charge of F---, who, whatever he may be in
other relations of life, is a vile cook; and our good-natured cadet
Mr. U---, who was exceedingly willing, but profoundly ignorant of
the elements of cookery. For fear of being tempted into another
digression, I will briefly state that during that week I lived in a
chronic state of hunger and heartburn, and sought forgetfulness from
repeated attacks of indigestion, by decorating my servants' rooms.
They opened into each other, and it would have been hard to find two
prettier little nests. Each had its shining brass bedstead with
chintz hangings, its muslin-draped toilette table, and its daintily
curtained window, besides a pretty carpet. I can remember now the
sort of dazed look with which Euphemia regarded a room such as she
had never seen; whilst Lois considered it to be an instalment of her
good luck, and proceeded to contemplate her sharp and elfish
countenance in her looking-glass, pronouncing it as her opinion that
she wanted more colour. That she certainly did, and she might have
added, more flesh and youthfulness, while she was about it.
However, they were greatly delighted, and Euphemia who was of a
grateful and affectionate disposition, actually thanked me, for
having with my own hands arranged such pretty rooms for them.

This was a very good beginning. They were both hard-working, civil
girls, and got on very well together, leaving me plenty of leisure
to attend to the quantities of necessary arrangements which have to
be made when you are settling yourself for good, fifty miles from a
shop, and on a spot where no other human being has ever lived
before. F--- congratulated myself in private on my exceptional good
luck, and attributed it partly to my having followed the
Upholsterer's advice in that book of Mr. Wilkie Collins. But as it
turned out, F--- was dwelling in a fool's paradise. In vain had it