"I got down the curtains and put them to soak; but I can't starch them and put them on the stretcher and hang them again,"

confessed Janice "The house looks so bare! And every inch of paint needs scrubbing--even in the rooms that Mrs. Watkins shut up so tight. She did not clean the paint."

"Can't you hire somebody to help you?" asked Mrs. Carringford.

"If you mean can daddy pay for it--he'd be glad to!" cried Janice. "But I just can't find anybody at all."

"I might come over and help you a couple of days, Janice," said Mrs. Carringford, doubtfully.

"Oh! Could you?"

"I can't come very early in the morning; but Amy can get supper for the children, so that I could stay until after your dinner at night, Janice."

"Mrs. Carringford! if you'll come and help us," gasped Janice, "I think I'll just cry for joy."

"Don't do that, my dear. Of course, this is only a stop-gap.

But I will try to do what I can for you toward cleaning house and putting everything to rights again."

And a single day's work made such a difference Daddy came into the house toward evening without knowing what Janice had arranged with Mrs. Carringford, and began to "snuff" at once.

"Why, Janice, how clean everything smells!" he cried when the girl ran to meet him. "What is happening?"

"We are cleaning house. At least, she is."

"'She'? Who?" he cried.

"You'll never guess."

"I--I--Surely none of the neighbors has taken pity on us and come in to clean?"

"That is exactly what has happened," Janice said. "Mrs.

Carringford, Daddy!"

"Mrs Carringford!" he repeated. "Not come to work for us?"

"Oh, dear! I wish she was going to work for us all the time,"

confessed the girl with a sigh. "But she is going to put us all straight once more, at least. The children don't want her to go out to work; but she will do this for us."

"Well, 'small mercies thankfully received; larger ones in proportion,'" murmured daddy. "The whole house to be cleaned once more? And without my Janice to be dragging herself to death?"

"Oh, Daddy!"

"Well, I have been worried, dear," he confessed. "I wrote your Aunt Almira, half promising that you should go to see them after school closed."

"Oh, Daddy!" shrieked Janice again. "To Poketown?"

"You won't find it so bad. And you need a rest, I believe. This old house--"

"Oh! you sha'n't talk so about our beautiful home," gasped Janice.

"If it is going to be such a burden to you, my dear--"

"It isn't! It isn't " she cried excitedly, and actually stamping her feet. "You don't mean to shut up our home, Daddy? I won't hear to it," and she burst into a flood of tears.

Mrs. Carringford came into the living-room, neat, smiling, and very, very good to look upon, the man thought. It was a blessing to have a real housekeeper, and homemaker as well, in the house.

"Quite overwrought, Mr. Day," she said putting her arms about the sobbing Janice. "She works too hard and tries to do too much."

"I know it," he said, shaking his head.

"And, besides," said the good woman, "Janice is growing up. She is growing too fast, perhaps. And she does need, Mr. Day, something that no father--no matter how willing and thoughtful he may be--can give her."

"That is--?" asked the man, paling a little.

"The companionship of a woman, Mr. Day," said Mrs. Carringford.

"She should be more with some woman whom you can trust. Not the women you have had here to work for you."

Janice had run away to bathe her eyes and make herself tidy.

Broxton Day listened to this woman's advise with a serious countenance.

"I was just suggesting her going to spend a part of the summer with her aunt in Vermont. And she doesn't want to," he explained.

"That would take her a long way from you and from her home. She loves her home, Mr. Day. Janice is a born homemaker, I believe."

"What can I do, then?" exclaimed the man, at his wit's end.

"Were any people ever situated so unfortunately as Janice and I?"

"There have been thousands like you and your daughter," said Mrs.

Carringford. "Janice will be all right after school closes, for she will not have so much to do. Let her books rest this summer.

See that she plays instead of works. If you will, let her be a good deal with other girls."

"I would be willing to have her fill the house with them. Only that, too, adds to the work."

"Well, we'll see," sighed Mrs. Carringford, preparing to go back to the kitchen. "She can run over and see my Amy, and Amy can come here. They are about the same age, and like kittens they should play more than work. I will gladly do what I can for you, Mr. Day. You have been very kind to me and mine."

He wanted to tell her that that was not so. That he had really done nothing, and the favor was on the other side. But she hurried away to attend to dinner.

And it was a nice dinner that was served at the Day table that evening. Like the faded-out lady, Mrs.

Carringford sat down to eat with them. But there was a different air about Mrs. Carringford. She was really a gentlewoman.

Janice recovered her spirits and chattered like a magpie; and Mr.

Day himself found that for the first time in many months, he had really enjoyed a well-cooked meal and a social meal at his own table.

Mrs. Carringford came day after day until the entire house was cleaned. Daddy found a man to clean up the yard, cart away ashes, smooth the walks and dig over the flowerbeds. The local florist supplied growing plants for out of doors, and the Day place bloomed again as it was wont to do when Mrs. Day was alive.

Meanwhile Janice and her mates were just as busy as bees concluding the spring term at school. There were the final examinations which were now close at hand. Janice really trembled over these.

"My sakes, Amy! what if I shouldn't pa.s.s? I'm awfully shaky on physiology, especially."