up agin the mopboards and left it thar, and she hez only jest skimmed
over things with a dust-cloth. It ain't done thorough."

"And are you quite proficient as a _blanchisseuse?"_

Amarilly looked at him unperturbed.

"I kin scrub," she remarked calmly.

"I stand rebuked. Scrubbing is what they need. If you will come
to-morrow morning and put these rooms in order, I will give you a dollar
and your midday meal."

Amarilly, well satisfied with her new opening, closed the bargain
instantly.

The next morning at seven o'clock she rang the studio bell. The artist,
attired in a bathrobe and rubbing his eyes sleepily, opened the door.

"This was the day I was to clean," reminded Amarilly reprovingly.

"To be sure. But why so early? I thought you were a telegram."

"Early! It's seven o'clock."

"I still claim it's early. I have only been in bed four hours."

"Well, you kin go back to bed. I'll work orful quiet."

"And I can trust you not to touch any of the pictures or move anything?"