rah Emily was a great trial to genteel
nerves, but she was undeniably a great relief from much toilsome labor
that was quite incompatible with a genteel life. Sarah Emily noticed
her hesitation and went on:

"When Mrs. Jarvis came she had me make muffins every morning for
breakfast."

Miss Gordon dropped her knitting, completely off her guard.

"Why, Sarah Emily!" she cried, "you don't mean--not Elizabeth's Mrs.
Jarvis."

Sarah Emily nodded, well-pleased.

"Jist her, no less! She's been visitin' Mrs. Oliver for near a month
now, an' she was askin' after Lizzie, too. I told her where I was
from. I liked her. Me and her got to be awful good chums, but I
couldn't stand Mrs. Oliver. An' Mrs. Jarvis says, 'Why, how's my
little namesake?' An' o' course I put Lizzie's best side foremost. I
made her out as quiet as a lamb, an' as good an' bidable as Mary."

"Sarah Emily!"--Miss Gordon had got back some of her severity--"you
didn't tell an untruth?"

"Well, not exactly, but I guess I scraped mighty nigh one."

"What did Mrs. Jarvis say?"

"She said she wasn't much like her mother then, an' she hoped she
wouldn't grow up a little prig, or some such thing. An' she told
me"--here Sarah Emily paused dramatically, knowing she was by this
reinstating herself into the family--"she told me to tell you she was
goin' to drive out some day next week and see you all, an' see what The
Dale looked like."

Miss Gordon's face flushed pink. Not since the day Lady Gordon called
upon her and Cousin Griselda had she been so excited. It seemed too
good to be true that her dream that this rich lady, who had once owned
The Dale and for whom little Elizabeth had been called, should really
come to them. Surely Lizzie's fortune was made!

She turned gratefully towards her maid. Sarah Emily had arisen and was
gathering up her hat and carpet-bag. For the first time her mistress
noted the weary droop of the girl's strong frame.

"We needn't have either muffins or pancakes, Sarah Emily," she said
kindly. "Put away your things upstairs and I shall tell Jean and Mary
to set the table for you."

But Sarah Emily sprang airily towards the kitchen door, strengthened by
the little touch of kindness.

"Pshaw, don't you worrit your head about me!" she cried gayly. "I'll
slap up a fine supper for yous all in ten minutes." She swung open the
kitchen door at the end of the porch, and turned before she slammed it.
She stood a moment re