p entry. The sun shone through the
cracks in the rotten woodwork full of bent rusty nails, and from time to
time a dirty stream issued from beneath the gate, and disappeared into
the gutter.

She stopped a moment as she heard her mother's righteous indignation
venting itself within, in the familiar, dry, measured tones; and it was
hesitatingly and with a depressed look that she opened the gate, behind
which stood Mrs. Andersen's servant-maid, furiously red, and incapable
of defending herself, while Mrs. Holman, her skirts fastened up, and her
feet astride over the gutter-board, was rinsing and wringing out
clothes. She was working calmly and deliberately; nothing in her cold
grey eyes betrayed agitation.

"Mrs. Andersen ought at least to have the good sense to understand that
clothes that had been used so long couldn't be got ready in one week.
For that matter, you're welcome to tell her so from me. And I haven't
been accustomed either, even in my humble position, to send clothes to
the wash not patched or mended; and I can tell you that both Mother
Nilsen next door and the people in this house have wondered to see the
things that a person, who calls herself a chandler's wife, lets her
husband and children wear! No, you needn't contradict me, my good girl;
when I say a thing, it's the truth. And the stockings--we'll say nothing
about them; for one heel was gathered up with a piece of twine, so that
it was a disgrace to stand and wash them. People may look as high and
mighty as they like--the wash speaks out!"

With slow, crushing significance she turned to her daughter.

"If you had come a little sooner, Silla, you might have saved me a great
deal of work. But it's of no consequence; the sooner I'm dead and gone,
the better. I've never wanted to live either, since your father went
away."

"I'll help you wring, mother."

"Now it's all done? Many thanks! But it would have shown a little
forethought, if you, who have only been sitting up in the factory, had
hurried yourself a little to help your mother, who's had to stand and
work hard all the morning."

"Thanks for the information, Mrs. Holman." It was Mrs. Andersen's
servant, who had at last recovered her voice. "But I think you won't
need to trouble yourself any more about our washing. It's much too plain
and humble for such grand sentiments."

She dropped a curtsey, and then added, as she vanished quickly out of
the gate:

"If only your soap-lye was half as