"Yes, Katty; I am ready at any moment," was the reply; which caused
the whites of Katty's eyes to appear for a second between the lids and
the irids.

There had been only one applicant for the place, who had come while we
had not quite irrevocably fixed our plans.

Mother swerved for a moment; she came in and told us what the girl
said.

"She is not experienced; but she looks good-natured; and she is
willing to come for a trial."

"They all do that," said Barbara, gravely. "I think--as
Protestants--we've hired enough of them."

Mother laughed, and let the "trial" go. That was the end, I think, of
our indecisions.

We got Mrs. Dunikin to come and scrub; we pulled out pots and pans,
stove-polish and dish-towels, napkins and odd stockings missed from
the wash; we cleared every corner, and had every box and bottle
washed; then we left everything below spick and span, so that it
almost tempted us to stay even there, and sent for the sheet-iron man,
and had the stove taken up stairs. We only carried up such lesser
movables as we knew we should want; we left all the accumulation
behind; we resolved to begin life anew, and feel our way, and furnish
as we went along.