'E is very clean about 'imself"-- she spoke as if it was a fact to be proud of, and Sylvia could not help smiling.
"I suppose there are still many French houses without a bath-room," she said.
"Yes," said Madame Wachner quickly, "the French are not a clean people,"-- she shook her head scornfully.
"I suppose you keep your money in that box ?" said Sylvia, looking at the brass-bound trunk.
"No, indeed! _This_ is where I keep it!" Madame Wachner suddenly lifted her thin alpaca skirt, and Sylvia, with astonishment, saw that hung round her capacious waist were a number of little wash-leather bags.

"My money is all 'ere!" exclaimed Madame Wachner, laughing heartily.

"It rests--oh, so cosily--against my petticoat." They went back into the kitchen.

The water was boiling, and Sylvia made the tea, Madame Wachner looking on with eager interest.
"La! La! it will be strong! I only put a pinch for ourselves.

And now go into the dining-room, and I will bring the teapot there to you, Madame!" "No, no," said Sylvia laughing, "why should we not drink our tea here, in this pretty kitchen ?" The other looked at her doubtfully.