“That’s because you were born to be waited on, and not to serve,” said the little woman, good-naturedly.

“Then I am sadly out of place,” replied Clemence, with a sigh.  “I am inclined to think, however, that you are more liberal in your views than the rest of our sex.  Most of them would tell me that the reason of my lack of capacity, was because I did not cultivate my faculties properly, or, in plain terms, that I was lazy.”

“I don’t see that either,” responded the other.  “A man works just so many hours a day, and comes home feeling that his duty is done, and lies down, if he feels inclined, or swears at the children for being noisy and troublesome, and walks off to amuse himself, leaving his tired wife at home, to go on with her work till midnight, if she can’t get it done before.  Nobody thinks of calling him anything but a poor hard working body, slaving himself to death, for the good of his family.  But a woman—­just mark the difference.  I suppose, though, I need not follow out that side of the picture?” she added shrewdly.

“Surely, no,” said Clemence, “I know too well by sad experience.  Why, Mrs. Owen, I never feel the privilege of sitting down after the labors of the day have wearied mind and body, without offering my services, ignorant as I am of housekeeping, and awkward as I know I must be.  What would be said of me, if I did not assist in getting tea, or washing the dishes, and even helping through with the Saturday’s work, to say nothing of the Sunday dinner, with its numberless guests to be waited upon and entertained, upon the one day appointed for rest.”

“Poor little thing!  It’s a hard life for such a delicate body as you.  I’ve heard you was rich once; was it true?” she asked inquisitively.

“Yes, madam,” said Clemence, “this is a new experience for me.”

“Well, it’s hard,” she said again.  “I can’t help but pity people that’s always been used to having everything they wanted, and suddenly find themselves poor, and without anything to help themselves with.  I know some folks are glad when the proud are brought down to their own level, and say that a little humiliation will do them good, but I ain’t so.

“Amos and me started poor enough, I can tell you.  All we had in the world was a little outfit of beddin’ and dishes that father gave me, and Amos made the furniture himself.  But we was both strong and active, and what was better willing, and we soon got a start and have kept goin’ ahead ever since.  There ain’t anybody around here that’s better off now.  There’s only one drawback, I think my man’s too savin.  He’s had to deny himself so long, that now, although we are in pretty easy circumstances, he thinks he can’t afford a good many things that other people, poorer than we are, call the very necessaries of life.  For instance, I dress poorer than any woman in the place; Amos even limits the number of calico dresses that I have; I get three a year, and one I have to put away to sort o’ slick up in.  I hain’t got a delaine one to my name.