It’s about three months since Mrs. Perry came here to board.  I’m very sure about the time, and it was the day I was to pay my quarter’s rent, and to-morrow will be quarter-day again; thank the Lord I’ve got the money ready.

I didn’t have the money ready then, though, and the landlord left his temper behind him, instead of a receipt, and I was just having a little cry in my apron, and asking the Lord why it was that a poor lone woman who was working her finger-ends off should have such a hard time, when the door-bell rang.

“That’s the landlord again. I know his ways, the mean wretch!” said I to myself, hastily rubbing my eyes dry, and making up before the mirror in the hat-tree as fierce a face as I could.  Then I snatched open the door, and tried to make believe my heart wasn’t in my mouth.

But the landlord wasn’t there, and I’ve always been a little sorry, for I was looking so savage, that a wee little woman, who was at the door, trembled all over, and started to go down the steps.

“Don’t go, ma’am,” I said, very quickly, with the best smile I could put on (and I think I’ve been long enough in the business to give the right kind of a smile to a person that looks like a new boarder).  “Don’t go—­I thought it was—­I thought it was—­somebody else that rang.  Come in, do.”

She looked as if I was doing her a great honor, and I thought that looked like poor pay, but I was too glad at not seeing the landlord just then to care if I did lose one week’s board; besides, she didn’t look as if she could eat much.

“I see you advertise a small bedroom to let,” said she, looking appealing-like, as if she was going to beat me down on the strength of being poor.  “How much is it a week?”

“Eight dollars,” said I, rather shortly.  Seven dollars was all I expected to get, but I put on one, so as to be beaten down without losing anything.  “I can get eight from a single gentleman, the only objection being that he wants to keep a dog in the back yard.”

“Oh, I’ll pay it,” said she, quickly taking out her pocketbook.  “I’ll take it for six weeks, anyhow.”

I never felt so ashamed of myself in my life.  I made up my mind to read a penitential passage of Scripture as soon as I closed the bargain with her, but, remembering the Book says to be reconciled to your brother before laying your gift on the altar, I says, quick as I could, for fear that if I thought over it again I couldn’t be honest: 

“You shall have it for seven, my dear madame, if you’re going to stay so long, and I’ll do your washing without extra charge.”

This last I said to punish myself for suspecting an innocent little lady.

“Oh, thank you—­thank you very much,” said she, and then she began to cry.

I knew that wasn’t for effect, for we were already agreed on terms, and she had her pocketbook open showing more money that I ever have at a time, unless it’s rent-day.