ress of the meal had time to reflect that very probably the curtains were only being aired in the back yard, and it was a good thing I had held in.
But a subsequent visit to the laundry where Nooks was operating with her usual energy and determination, revealed at the first glance the tragic fact that all eight curtains were already in the tub, and at the mercy of those ruthless red arms. The uselessness of protest strove with my astonishment, rendering me dumb.
"Why I—there must be some mistake," I began when I recovered speech. "The curtains are getting so old, I'm afraid they may give way."
Nooks' steamy countenance beamed on me. "They'll be all right, Mum," she said optimistically, slithering the limp masses around in the suds. "Yuh c'n depend on it an' make yersef aisy, I won't riddle 'em no more 'n c'n be helped." Whereat realizing my helplessness, I shuddered and withdrew.
It has been my habit of late years to avoid active participation in scenes of domestic upheaval when it is possible. I perceived in Caroline's time that my presence affected little
