But nobody knew the fact, and it did nobody any harm.
Meantime at No 15 the afternoon had passed heavily enough.

Miss Selina had gone to lie down; she always did of Sundays, and Elizabeth, after making her comfortable, by the little attentions the lady always required, had descended to the dreary wash house, which had been appropriated to herself, under the name of a "private kitchen," in the which, after all the cleanings and improvements she could achieve, sat like Marius among the rains of Carthage, and sighed for the tidy bright house place at Stowbury.

Already, from her brief experience, she had decided that London people were horrid shams, because they did not in the least care to have their kitchens comfortable.

She wondered how she should ever exist in this one, and might have carried her sad and sullen face up stairs, if Miss Leaf had not come down stairs, and glancing about with that ever gentle smile of hers, said kindly, "Well, it is not very pleasant, but you have made the best of it, Elizabeth.

We must all put up with something, you know.