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"
So
there
is
a
stair
,
"
said
I
,
and
then
,
suspiciously
,
"
did
she
make
it
?
"
No
,
but
how
she
had
altered
it
.
The
stair
led
to
Mary
's
bedroom
,
and
I
said
I
would
not
look
at
that
,
nor
at
the
studio
,
which
was
a
shed
in
the
garden
.
"
Did
she
build
the
studio
with
her
own
hands
?
"
No
,
but
how
she
had
altered
it
.
"
How
she
alters
everything
,
"
I
said
.
"
Do
you
think
you
are
safe
,
ma'am
?
"
She
thawed
a
little
under
my
obvious
sympathy
and
honoured
me
with
some
of
her
views
and
confidences
.
The
rental
paid
by
Mary
and
her
husband
was
not
,
it
appeared
,
one
on
which
any
self-respecting
domestic
could
reflect
with
pride
.
They
got
the
house
very
cheap
on
the
understanding
that
they
were
to
vacate
it
promptly
if
anyone
bought
it
for
building
purposes
,
and
because
they
paid
so
little
they
had
to
submit
to
the
indignity
of
the
notice-board
.
Mary
A
--
--
detested
the
words
"
This
space
to
be
sold
,
"
and
had
been
known
to
shake
her
fist
at
them
.
She
was
as
elated
about
her
house
as
if
it
were
a
real
house
,
and
always
trembled
when
any
possible
purchaser
of
spaces
called
.
As
I
have
told
you
my
own
aphorism
I
feel
I
ought
in
fairness
to
record
that
of
this
aggrieved
servant
.
It
was
on
the
subject
of
art
.
"
The
difficulty
,
"
she
said
,
"
is
not
to
paint
pictures
,
but
to
get
frames
for
them
.
"
A
home
thrust
this
.
She
could
not
honestly
say
that
she
thought
much
of
her
master
's
work
.
Nor
,
apparently
,
did
any
other
person
.
Result
,
tinned
meats
.
Yes
,
one
person
thought
a
deal
of
it
,
or
pretended
to
do
so
;
was
constantly
flinging
up
her
hands
in
delight
over
it
;
had
even
been
caught
whispering
fiercely
to
a
friend
,
"
Praise
it
,
praise
it
,
praise
it
!
"
This
was
when
the
painter
was
sunk
in
gloom
.
Never
,
as
I
could
well
believe
,
was
such
a
one
as
Mary
for
luring
a
man
back
to
cheerfulness
.
