The act involves one or more railway journeys, much running about in hot streets, and much hopeless ringing at dumb and dusty doors.

This is the explanation of Katy's six months' stay in my kitchen.

In town, she would have been dismissed at the end of the first week.

She was a wretched cook, and a worse laundress.

Within an hour after she entered my door, the decent black gown was exchanged for a dingy calico which she wore, without a collar, and minus a majority of the buttons, all day long and every day.