"I dare say you have an attic-full of delightful old spinning-wheels and things," remarked that lady, quick to mark the change of tone and hoping to profit by it. She glanced toward the stair-foot as she spoke. Miss Colishaw quickly stepped in front of the stairs, and stood there with the air of an ancient Roman defending his household gods.
"Yes, ma'am, I have an attic," she said dryly. "It's a very good attic, and it's stuffed full of old things. There's a fender and two pairs of fire-dogs—"
Mrs. Joy's eyes sparkled. "Oh, do let us go up and see it!" she cried.
"No, you don't!" said Miss Colishaw, taking a firmer grasp of the baluster. "There's a wool-wheel, and a flax-wheel, and a winder, and three warming-pans—"
"Dear me! What a delightful place!" put in Mrs. Joy.
"There's lots and lots of old truck," continued the implacable Miss Colishaw. "It all belonged to my mother and my grandmother
