lla was, unfortunately for herself, very timid at nights; and even when at home had always been ready to imagine burglars and alarms of fire; and Kate had often laughed at her, and asked what she would do if, in her nightly searches round her bedroom, she should find a burglar under the bed, or hidden amongst the dresses secreted in her wardrobe.

As she had always been thus ready to take alarm on the smallest provocation, it is not to be wondered at that the old gardener’s mysterious warning filled her with anxiety; the more so that, in spite of all her efforts to persuade him, he resolutely refused to say anything more, and she was left in a state of hopeless bewilderment as to what his strange hints could mean.

The only thing she could do was to be specially watchful, and she determined that, in spite of her fears, she would sit up at night till the servants had gone to bed, and make sure that everything was properly secured.

It was very evident that they did not like it, and they did their utmost to compel her to go to bed first, by sitting up till very late themselves. But Ella had a determination of character which caused her, when once she was sure it was her duty to do anything, to persist in carrying out her intention in spite of all obstacles, and the servants’ objection to her sitting up last at night made her only the more determined to do so.

One night they had tried her patience sorely by lingering about, but when they had at last departed, Ella went her usual round, and found they had carelessly left a side door unfastened.

Having locked the door she went up to bed, and, in spite of feeling nervous and uneasy, she soon fell asleep, but only to be awakened a short time after by a stealthy sound in the room below.

She sat up and listened; it was true at last—there was certainly someone getting into the house.

What should she do? Should she cry for help, or follow her first instinct to bury her head under the bed-clothes? But her better judgment prevailed; and remembering that her aunt was often restless in the night, and that it was probably only nurse who had gone downstairs to get something for her, she slipped on her dressing-gown and the warm slippers Kate had provided her with, and crept quietly out of the room and down the stairs.

Her heart beat so fast that, to her ears, it drowned all other sounds, and it seemed to her almost that it must alarm the thieves. When she reached the hall she found her fears verified: a light gleamed under the dining-room door, and she heard voices whispering inside.

She thought of calling the dogs, but dared not risk alarming her aunt; so at last, summoning up all her resolution, she opened the door, and to her amazement found the table laid for supper, and a party seated round it, consisting of the two servants and two men.

The men instantly disappeared through the open window, without waiting to see who had interrupted them, leaving Ella alone with the two angry but frightened servants. The cellarette, which Ella was sure she had locked before going to bed, was standing open, and the contents were on the table. The cook’s face was flushed, and she had evidently been drinking a good deal.

Ella was so startled that she was quite silent for a few minutes, and the cook recovering herself first, began pouring out a torrent of abuse; when, to Ella’s intense relief, the door again opened, and Nurse entered, while at the same moment two dark figures appeared, clambering in through the open window. Annie, the housemaid, thinking them the same two who had just escaped, rushed towards them, but to her dismay found herself seized by a stalwart policeman, and old Mr. Dudley came to Ella’s side, begging her not to be frightened.

With this reinforcement Ella felt herself victorious, and soon regained her self-possession sufficiently to consider what was to be done. The policeman assured her that she had a perfect right to turn the two maids out at once, but her own good sense, even without Nurse’s advice, showed her that it would be wrong to turn out two young women late at night, however badly they might have behaved. Accordingly, acting on Mr. Dudley’s advice, she told them to go to their bedroom at once, and prepare to leave first thing in the morning.

Mr. Dudley accounted for his unexpected appearance by explaining to Ella that he had been sitting up late reading, and on looking out of his window before going to bed, he had noticed the two men lurking about, and having several times suspected that something was wrong, he had gone for a policeman, hoping to be in time to catch the thieves.

To Ella’s great relief Mrs. Wilson was at last convinced that the servants were untrustworthy, and made no objection when she heard that they had both left the house, with their boxes, immediately after breakfast next morning.

A respectable charwoman, recommended by Mrs. Mobberly, was engaged to do the work temporarily; and Ella, very much dismayed at such an unexpected responsibility, had to consider what steps must be taken to engage new servants.

To begin with, Mrs. Mobberly advised her to mention the matter to the tradespeople, who often hear of good servants, and at the same time she would herself go for Ella to a registry office in the town, which she knew to be thoroughly respectable. At the same time she gave Ella a very solemn warning against ever going to any registry office about which she knew nothing, as some so-called offices are places to be scrupulously avoided, both by mistresses and servants.

The result of this vigorous action was that Ella was besieged and overwhelmed by the number of applicants for the situations. Mrs. Wilson’s was a well-known place, where the work was easy, and the rule in most respects very light; and in addition to the respectable and pleasant-looking young women who came, Ella had to run the gauntlet of incompetent girls, impudent girls, girls who amazed her with the elegance of their attire, and others who disgusted her with their dirty slovenliness, not to mention all the middle-aged women in search of a comfortable home, and mothers anxious to secure a good place for their young daughters.

A good many of them were so evidently unsuitable that Ella soon disposed of them, and easily reduced the number to three or four applicants, who, however, all seemed equally suitable, and she felt so incapable of deciding between these, that she dismissed them all for the present, promising to write to each of the selected number the next day.

So far the task, though rather overwhelming for so inexperienced a housekeeper, had been comparatively simple, for Ella had been coached up beforehand, both by her aunt and Mrs. Mobberly, as to the most important questions to ask each applicant:—what had been her last situation, and why she left it; what wages she asked, where her home was, whether she belonged to any church, and whether she would be obliging and willing to undertake the rather miscellaneous duties, which included feeding the various animals, and occasionally helping to water or weed the garden, in addition to waiting on Mrs. Wilson, and the usual house-work. Ella was especially advised to explain the varied nature of their duties to any likely applicants, that there might be no misunderstanding about it afterwards. But the task of finally selecting the two best was rather more than Ella felt equal to; so, as usual, she consulted Mrs. Mobberly, who, feeling that Mrs. Wilson was not likely ever to be very robust again, and that it would therefore not be wise to have only young girls in the house, when Nurse should have left, advised Ella, if her aunt consented, to engage as cook a middle-aged widow, in whose son (a sailor) Mrs. Wilson took great interest, and whom she had known for several years as a respectable woman.

“I liked her very much directly I saw her,” said Ella, “but I was afraid she would not be so active and brisk about her work as a younger woman.”

“Very likely not, but with such a small household she can easily manage all she will have to do; and even if you should occasionally be obliged to have a charwoman for extra cleaning, it would be quite worth your while to do it, for the sake of the comfort of having an experienced woman in the house, whom you could depend upon to take care of your aunt, and who would know what to do in case of sudden illness.”

Then having, from Ella’s description, decided which of the young girls seemed most likely to suit, Mrs. Mobberly directed her to write to the girl who was still at her situation, and tell her to ask her mistress if she would kindly appoint a time when it would be convenient for Ella to call upon her about the girl’s character.

“Some ladies prefer to write direct to the mistress about a time to call,” Mrs. Mobberly explained, “but I always think if the girl is still in the situation it saves her mistress trouble if she can take a message.”

Ella felt very nervous at this part of her task, but carefully concealed her feelings from her aunt, from whom she knew she would get no sympathy, but only sarcastic remarks as to how, in her young days, people were more plainspoken, and called nervousness and shyness by their proper names of conceit and affectation.

Ella found the visit, when the time came, less alarming than she had expected, though in some respects less satisfactory; for she had never doubted but that the mistress’s report would at once decide her either for or against the maid, which did not prove to be the case. She told Ella the girl was honest, and sober, and knew her work well, but that on the other hand she was disobliging and pert in her manners.

These serious drawbacks would, of course, have decided Ella against her, but that being naturally a shrewd observer, she could not help being struck by the lady’s imperious manner, and very unpleasant, dictatorial way of speaking, which so disagreeably impressed her that she made up her mind there was probably a good deal of excuse for the girl, and resolved, if Mrs. Mobberly consented, to give her a trial.

This lady not only agreed, but warmly commended Ella for being observant, and added that she was sure servants had often a great deal to put up with from unjust and unreasonable mistresses, who would goad them into speaking rudely by their overbearing manners, or make it almost impossible for them to get their work done properly by constantly calling them off from it to attend to other things; and then, having the poor girls’ characters entirely in their hands, ruin their chances by blaming them for faults which they themselves had caused.

Thus encouraged, Ella sent for the girl again, told her the whole truth about the interview with her mistress, and asked how she came to have a character of that sort; to which the girl replied at once, with a straightforward manner which convinced Ella she was speaking the truth, that she had stayed longer at the place than any other servant she knew of, and that they all had the same character given them on leaving, the fact being that the mistress kept nagging at them all day long, and spoke in such a disagreeable way to them that she tried their tempers almost beyond endurance, and she was afraid that sometimes it was true, they were driven into answering her rudely.

So the matter was arranged, and very shortly afterwards the household settled down again into quietness and peace, with Mrs. Moore, the good widow, in charge of the house in general and the kitchen in particular, and Sarah, the “pert and disobliging” girl, to act under her supervision, as house and parlour maid. The very first day of their arrival, Ella, prompted, of course, by her aunt, explained to them both the rules of the house; that all windows and doors must be fastened by ten o’clock every night, that they must ask permission before inviting visitors to the kitchen, though leave would always be gladly given for suitable friends and at suitable times; and the same applied to going out. There were a few other matters Mrs. Wilson was particular about; that breakages or accidents of any sort should be reported to her at once, and not left to be found out accidentally; and that as good wages were given, there should be no perquisites of any sort.

Mrs. Wilson had a very great objection to clandestine “followers,” but saw no reason why servants should not be as openly engaged to be married as their young mistresses; so as soon as she found that the new maid, Sarah, had a “young man,” whom she ascertained to be a thoroughly respectable young mechanic, she told her she might invite him to the house once a fortnight, and to begin with, he might come to tea and go to church with her the following Sunday, but she must invariably come straight home after church, as Mrs. Wilson greatly disapproved of young women being out after church time: “If they must have a walk,” she said, “they could go before church, but all girls were better at home late in the evening.”

Mrs. Moore turned out to be a great help among the poultry, and relieved Ella’s mind greatly by her knowledge and cleverness with them. Almost her first work among them was to “set” two of the hens. She showed Ella how to make their nests in a secluded corner where the other fowls would not disturb them, and to arrange them so that they could not steal each other’s eggs. Then she selected the eggs, refusing the extra large ones that Ella suggested, and taking only well-formed, medium-sized ones.

“It is rather early in the year yet, miss, so we won’t give them too many eggs. It is better to get all out of a small sitting, than a few out of a large one. They are good-sized hens, though, so I think we will give them eight eggs each.”

The nests were made of hay, from which the longest stalks had been removed; and all round the nests Mrs. Moore scattered a thick layer of ashes.

When all was ready she brought one of the hens and put her near the nest. Directly the hen saw the eggs she went straight to them, and with a contented chuckle settled herself on them, carefully arranging them with her beak and legs. The other hen was not quite so quick, and preferred taking a survey of the premises first, but after a time she also settled herself, and they were left for their three weeks’ solitary confinement.

Every morning they were turned out to take their daily meal, and to dust their feathers with the dry sand and ashes provided for them at one corner of the run. In their anxiety about their precious eggs they would sometimes have omitted this duty, but Mrs. Moore was firm, and explained to Ella that it would be bad both for the hens and the eggs if they never left their nests.

Ella soon took a great interest in the hens, and became quite clever in lifting them from their nests (when gentle persuasion had not the desired effect), and after a little practice learnt to accomplish it without either pulling out the whole nest or jerking an egg or two out with the hen.

(To be continued.)