"Kindness is wasted on the ungrateful things!" Roma answered impatiently. "I must have another maid immediately."
"But where shall we find her? Not in this little town, I fear. So we must send to Boston."
"Wait! I have an idea, mamma!"
"Well?"
"I should like to have that neat little sewing girl that altered my cape that night. She is so clever with her needle, she would be a real treasure to me, and save you many dressmaking bills."
"Would she be willing to come?"
"We can find out by asking the old woman she lives with—you know, mamma, that old tumble-down shanty at the end of town, coming out of Cliffdene? It is a little more than a mile from here. Liane Lester lives there with an old grandmother that beats her every day, I've heard, and I've no doubt she would jump at the chance of a situation here!"
Mrs. Clarke forbore to remind her daughter that she, too, had been accused of beating her maid; she only said warningly:
"You would have to be kinder to her than you were to Sophie, or she would not be likely to stay, my dear."
"How could you believe Sophie's fibs on me?" cried Roma petulantly; but Mrs. Clarke turned the exclamation aside by saying: