clay, and smells, and bad water. She is very
much taken up with those things now, and will
make me listen to extracts about water and the
things that get into it till I’m afraid to drink a drop
unless it has been filtered, and then it is not fresh
and cold as if it came straight from the pump;
so it is a great trial to me, I assure you, my dear.”

Winnie smiled as she said, “I think you may
drink the water here, dear Miss Cecilia, it rises
only just below the top of the hill.”

“There’s no saying,” replied Miss Cecilia,
doubtfully, ‘Sarah would tell you you can never
be safe. One day,” she continued in a low voice,
“we were taking tea at the Rectory, and Mr.
Claines and Sarah were talking about clays and
gravels and wells, and all at once she cried ont,
‘There’s death in the pot!’ It made me jump,
my dear, and almost frightened me out of my
senses, for I thought the cook had put arsenic or
strychnine into the tea—you know one does read of
such dreadful things in the newspapers—and I
called out, ‘Oh, Sarah, where is it?’ ‘There,’ she
said, pointing to her eup; but there was nothing
but some tea and cream in it, for Sarah doesn’t
drink sugar, as I daresay you remember, Winifred;
and what she meant I could not understand. But
Mr. Claines talked to her, and I made out some-
thing about leakage from a cesspool, but he said it
could not be, and she said it might be, and if there
was, the tea was only poison. I don’t think Mrs.
Claines quite liked it, you know, but Sarah would
not drink another drop, nor let me either. She
asked for milk, and filled her cup with that; and
the very next day she droye into Birmingham and
bought the best filter she could get, and sent it to
the Rectory with her kind regards. She does not

mind drinking tea there now, but between our-|

selves, my dear, I am not quite sure that they use
the filter ; for one day when Mrs. Claines took me
into the store room, I thought I saw it put up on
the top shelf with their best china, only of course
T never told Sarah; it might have caused unpleasant-
ness, and there can’t be any thing very much the
matter with the water, because it has never made
any of them ill, and I am careful only to drink one
cup of tea when I go there, and Sarah never has
more, or else perhaps it might be my duty to let
her know.”

“JT think you are very wise to say nothing,”
said Winnie, trying to look grave; “people are so
easily offended.”

“That is what I said to myself, and Sarah
would never go there to tea again if she knew;
dinner does not matter so much, you see, be-
cause there is always wine to drink, and though
water must be used in cooking, the food would
hardly be injured by it, at least Sarah thinks not.”

“JT have heard George talk a great deal about

nm

Ee SS a ee

bad water. When the cholera was coming, he |
said water would spread it more quickly than any
thing: Do you know, Miss Cecilia, there was a
poor girl died of it up at the cottage the day |
before yesterday? she was brought home from |
Birmingham, and only lived a few hours.”

“Poor thing, how sad! I hope you were not i
frightened, my dear?” said the old lady kindly
and seriously.

“J don’t know,” replied Winnie thoughtfully,
“it struck me very much indeed; it seemed as if it
would come to us after all their care to put us in
safety up here. I don’t think I was exactly
frightened though.”

“‘ Have there been any more cases?”

‘Not out of the house, but two of the childrer
were ill this morning. The people keep quite to:
themselves; no one has been to the house since.”

“What did George say ?”

“JT don’t know; he would only hear of it this
morning. But where is Miss Fisher gone?” she
oxclaimed, suddenly noting that they were alone.
They had been wandering about the garden, and
had not remarked what became of Ramsay and his
companion; but now they caught a glimpse of
them far down on the side of the hill, Ramsay was:
showing her something, and they both seemed very
busy; so Winnie proposed that she and Miss:
Cecilia should go in and ask Mrs. Ramsay to let
them see her dairy.

“‘ She is so proud of it, and no wonder. Trot and
T admire it equally, from different points of view; it
is a store-house of sweet milk and eream and bits
of fresh-made butter to her, while I always wonder
how any one can keep it so beautifully clean and
yet do so much work there. I have learnt all!
sorts of useful things since I have been here; Mrs.
Ramsay lets me see her make up the butter, and
last week I watched bread-making from beginning
to end. They are going to brew on Friday, so |
then I shall know scmething about that also, but
as yet Iam dreadfully ignorant about pigs; bacon
pigs and pork pigs, they are all alike to me, and
Mrs. Ramsay is quite unhappy about it. I believe
if it were possible she would like to have a pig
killed that I might see it cut up and know the
pieces.”

Mrs. Ramsay was in the front kitchen and quite:
prepared to show off her dairy. Miss Cecilia praised
it to her heart’s content, and then Winnie suggested
going upstairs to see the upper part of the house.

“There’s only our room and those we let that
can be used now,” said Mrs. Ramsay, as she went
before them; “but this one here must have been &
fine chamber in the old days,” and she threw open
the door of a large room looking towards the west,
through the window of which the afternoon sun
was streaming on the dusty floor.