It is coming into fashion to be housekeepers and dairymaids once more." "Would you like to go to the Creamery, Bawn ?" asked my grandmother.
"I should love to," said I."And to have a herd of little Kerries like Lady Ardaragh.

The dairy is as pretty as ever, but it wants washing, and the fountain is broken.

I believe Michael Friely could mend it." My grandfather made no objection when he heard of the plan, only saying something with a laugh about fine ladies liking to play dairymaids.

So it was settled I should go to the Creamery; and Bridget Connor made gowns of cotton for me to wear at the Creamery, and white aprons to go with them.
I think my grandmother looked on it as a child's play for my diversion, and she would have Bridget make me as pretty as she could.

I dare say I did look as though I played at work, for I caught sight of myself in the Venetian mirror on the wall of my grandmother's boudoir as she turned me round about, her maid, Bridget Connor, who learnt dressmaking in Paris, pinching here and letting loose there.
The walls of my grandmother's boudoir are covered with mother-of-pearl which glows splendidly when the lamps are lit.
I glanced at the Venetian mirror and saw myself like a rose in my rosy frock, with the apron of spotless muslin and the mushroom hat with a wreath of pink roses.