hough I had long since told her not to wash the dishes after
dinner, but to pile them neatly in the sink and leave them until
morning.

Before long, however, the strictly human side of the problem began to
interest me. I had cherished lifelong theories in regard to the
brotherhood of man and the uplifting power of personal influence. I
had at times been tempted to try settlement work, and here I had a
settlement subject in my own kitchen.

There was not a suggestion of fault with the girl's work. She kept her
part of the contract, and did it well; but across the wall between us,
she glared at--and hated--me.

But, deliberately, I set to work in defence of my theory. I ignored
the impertinence, and seemingly did not hear the crash of dishes and
the banging of doors. When it came to an issue, I said calmly, though
my soul quaked within me: "You are not here to tell me what you will
do and what you won't. You are here to carry out my orders, and when
you cannot, it is time for you to go."

If she asked me a question about her work which I could not answer
offhand, I secretly consulted a standard cook-book, and later gave her
the desired information airily. I taught her to cook many of the
things which I could cook well, and imbued her with a sort of sneaking
respect for my knowledge. Throughout, I treated her with the perfect
courtesy which one lady accords to another, ignoring the impertinence.
I took pains to say "please" and "thank you." Many a time I bit my
lips tightly against my own rising rage, and afterward in calmness
recognised a superior opportunity for self-discipline.

For three or four months, while the beautiful theory wavered in the
balance, we fought--not outwardly, but beneath the surface. Daily, I
meditated a summary discharge, dissuaded only by an immaculate house
and perfectly cooked breakfasts and dinners. I still cherished a
lingering belief in personal influence, in spite of the wall which
reared itself between us.

A small grey kitten, with wobbly legs and an infantile mew, made the
first breach in the wall. She took care of it, loved it, petted it,
and began to smile semi-occasionally. She, too, said "please" and
"thank you." My husband suggested that we order ten kittens, but I let
the good work go on with one, for the time being. Gradually, I learned
that the immovable exterior was the natural protection against an
abnormal sensitiveness both to praise and blame. Besides the cat, she
had