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It was the fifteenth of January, about nine o'clock in the morning:
Bessie was gone down to breakfast; my cousins had not yet been
summoned to their mama; Eliza was putting on her bonnet and warm
garden-coat to go and feed her poultry, an occupation of which she was
fond: and not less so of selling the eggs to the housekeeper and
hoarding up the money she thus obtained. She had a turn for traffic,
and a marked propensity for saving; shown not only in the vending of
eggs and chickens, but also in driving hard bargains with the gardener
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about flower-roots, seeds, and slips of plants; that functionary
having orders from Mrs. Reed to buy of his young lady all the products
of her parterre she wished to sell: and Eliza would have sold the hair
off her head if she could have made a handsome profit thereby. As to
her money, she first secreted it in odd corners, wrapped in a rag or
an old curl-paper; but some of these hoards having been discovered
by the housemaid, Eliza, fearful of one day losing her valued
treasure, consented to intrust it to her mother, at a usurious rate of
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