Mistress Susan cast a quick glance at the rush-strewn floor, and
could not but agree with her niece. She had all the true
housewife's instinct of neatness and cleanliness in every detail.
The filthy habit of letting rushes rot on the floor, and only
piling fresh ones on the top as occasion demanded, found no favour
in this house. It was part of Cherry's work and delight to cut them
fresh as often as there was need, but a spell of wet weather had
hindered her from her river-side rambles of late, with the
consequence that the supply was unwontedly low.

"Oh, any one can do Keren Happuch's work and feel nothing added to
her toil," was the sharp response. "Small use are her hands in any
kitchen. We had better make up our minds to wed her to a fine
gentleman, who wants naught of his wife but to dress up in grand
gowns, and smirk and simper over her fan; for no useful work will
he get out of her. If rushes are wanted, she had better go quickly
and cut them--

"And mind, do not stray too far along the banks, child; and watch
the sky, and be in before the sun is down. The evenings draw in so
quick now; and I would not have you abroad after nightfall for all
the gold of Ophir."

Cherry had no desire for such a thing to happen either. London in
the darkness of the night was a terrible place. Out from all the
dens of Whitefriars and other like places swarmed the ruffian and
criminal population that by day slunk away like evil beasts of
night into hiding. The streets were made absolutely perilous by the
bands of cutthroats and cutpurses who prowled about, setting upon