of arriving and departing servants in the Rainham household--the
high-spirited characteristics of the children being apt to pall quickly
upon anyone but their mother. In days when there happened to be no
Eliza, it was Cecilia who naturally inherited the vacant place, adding
the duties of house-maid to those of nurse, governess, companion and
general factotum; all exacting posts, and all of them unpaid. As Mrs.
Rainham gracefully remarked, when a girl was not earning her own living,
as so many were, but was enjoying the comfort of home, the least she
could do was to make herself useful.

"Half a minute, Eliza." She smiled at the slatternly girl. "Sorry to
keep you waiting; there's a river of ink gone astray here." She placed
the soaked cloth on the waste-paper basket and polished the top of the
table vigorously.

"I'll bet it worn't you wot spilt it--but it's you wot 'as the cleanin'
up," muttered Eliza. "Lemme rub that up now, Miss." She put down her
tray and took the cloth from Cecilia's hand.

"Thanks, ever so, Eliza--but you've got plenty to do yourself."

"Well, if I 'ave, I ain't the on'y one wot 'as," said Eliza darkly.
Her wizened little face suddenly flushed. "Lor, Miss," she said
confidentially, "you doan't know wot a success that 'at you trimmed for
me is. It's a fair scream. I wore it larst night, an' me young man--'im
wot's in the Royal Irish--well, it fair knocked 'im! An' 'e wants me to
go out wiv 'im next Benk 'Oliday--out to 'Ampstead 'Eath. 'E never got
as far as arstin' me that before. I know it was that 'at wot done it."

"Not it, Eliza," Cecilia laughed. "It was just your hair under the hat.