What did it matter whether her mutch was clean?
Weaving and washing and cooking, doing the work of a breadwinner as well as of a housewife, hers was soon a body prematurely old, on which no wrapper would sit becomingly.

Before her face, Sanders would hint that her slovenly ways and dress tried him sorely, and in company at least she only bowed her head.

We were given to respecting those who worked hard, but Nanny, we thought, was a woman of means, and Sanders let us call her a miser.

He was always anxious, he said, to be generous, but Nanny would not let him assist a starving child.

They had really not a penny beyond what Nanny earned at the loom, and now we know how Sanders shook her if she did not earn enough.
His vanity was responsible for the story about her wealth, and she would not have us think him vain.
Because she did so much, we said that she was as strong as a cart-horse.