So, after a rigorous inspection, Miss Granger was obliged to express her
approval--not an unqualified approval, by any means. Too much praise would
have demoralized the Ardenites, and lowered the standard of perfection.
"I like to be able to say that my papa's village is the cleanest village in
England," she said; "not one of the cleanest, but _the_ cleanest. Why have
you turned the back of that tea-kettle to the wall, Mrs. Binks? I'm afraid
it's smoky. Now there never need be a smoky kettle. Your place looks very
nice, Mrs. Binks; but from the strong smell of soap, I fancy it must have
been cleaned _very lately_. I hope you have not been neglecting things
while I've been away. That sort of thing would militate against your
obtaining my prize for domestic cleanliness next Christmas."
Mrs. Binks did not know what "militate" meant, unless it might be something
in connection with the church militant, of which she had heard a great
deal; but she was not a mild-tempered woman, and she grew very red in the
face at this reproof."
"Well, miss, if to toil and scrub early and late, with a husband and five
children to do for, and to keep the place pretty much as you see it now,
though I don't say as it ain't a little extry perhaps, in honour of your
coming back--if that ain't hard work and cleanliness, and don't deserve
a prize of two pound at the year's end, I don't know what do.
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