the task,
Maggie, the Scotch servant, took her in hand, grooming her carefully and
exhibiting her as a sort of sweet old curiosity picked up out of a
dustheap, and now become the possession of a Museum. Aunt Constance, who
kept an eye of culture on Maggie's dialect, reported that she had said
of the old lady, that she was a "douce auld luckie": and that she stood
in need of no "bonny-wawlies and whigmaleeries," which, Miss Grahame
said, meant that she had no need of artificial decoration. She was very
happy by herself, reading any easy book with big enough print. And
though she was probably not so long without the society of grown people
as she had often been at Sapps Court, she certainly missed Dave and
Dolly. But she seemed pleased and gratified on being told that Dave was
not gone, and was at present not going, anywhere near old Mrs. Marrable
in the country.

The young lady broached her little scheme to her venerable friend, or
_protegee_, as soon as it became clear that a return to the desolation
to which Mr. Bartlett had converted Sapps Court might be a serious
detriment to her health. Mr. Bartlett himself admitted the facts, but
disputed the inferences to be drawn from them. Yes--there was, and there
would be, a trifle of myesture hanging round; nothing in itself, but
what you might call traces of ewaporation. You saw similar phenomena in
sinks, and at the back of cesterns. But you never come across anyone the
worse for 'em. He himself benefited by a hatmosphere, as parties called
it nowadays, such as warn't uncommon in basements of unoccupied
premises, and in morasses. But you were unable to account for other
people's constitutions not being identical in all respects with your
own. Providence was inscrutable, and you had to look at the symptoms.
These were the only guides vouchsafed to us. He would, however, wager
that as soon as the paperhanger was out of the house and the plaster
giv' a chance to 'arden, all the advantages of a bone-dry residence
would be enjoyed by an incoming tenant.

Portions of this opinion leaked out during a visit of Aunt M'riar to
Mrs. Prichard, at Cavendish Square, she having come from Ealing by the
'bus to overhaul the position with Uncle Mo, and settle whether she and
Dave and Dolly could return next week with safety. They had decided in
the negative, and Mr. Bartlett had said it was open to them to soote
themselves. Uncle Mo's sleeping-room had, of course, been spared by the
accide