On the morrow Caroline found Shirley sitting gravely at her desk, with an account-book, a bundle of banknotes, and a well-filled purse before her. She was looking mighty serious, but a little puzzled. She said she had been "casting an eye" over the weekly expenditure in housekeeping at the hall, trying to find out where she could retrench; that she had also just given audience to Mrs. Gill, the cook, and had sent that person away with a notion that her (Shirley's) brain was certainly crazed. "I have lectured her on the duty of being careful," said she, "in a way quite new to her. So eloquent was I on the text of economy that I surprised myself; for, you see, it is altogether a fresh idea. I never thought, much less spoke, on the subject till lately. But it is all theory; for when I came to the practical part I could retrench nothing. I had not firmness to take off a single pound of butter, or to prosecute to any clear result an inquest into the destiny of either dripping, lard, bread, cold meat, or other kitchen perquisite whatever. I know we never get up illuminations at Fieldhead, but I could not ask the meaning of sundry quite unaccountable pounds of candles. We do not wash for the parish, yet I viewed in silence items of soap and bleaching-powder calculated to satisfy the solicitude of the most anxious inquirer after our position in reference to those articles. Carnivorous I am not, nor is Mrs. Pryor, nor is Mrs. Gill herself, yet I only hemmed and opened my eyes a little wide when I saw butchers' bills whose figures seemed to prove that fact--falsehood, I mean. Caroline, you may laugh at me, but you can't change me. I am a poltroon on certain points; I feel it. There is a base alloy of moral cowardice in my composition. I blushed and hung my head before Mrs. Gill, when she ought to have been faltering confessions to me. I found it impossible to get up the spirit even to hint, much less to prove, to her that she was a cheat. I have no calm dignity, no true courage about me."

On the morrow Caroline found Shirley sitting gravely at her desk, with an account-book, a bundle of banknotes, and a well-filled purse before her. She was looking mighty serious, but a little puzzled. She said she had been "casting an eye" over the weekly expenditure in housekeeping at the hall, trying to find out where she could retrench; that she had also just seen Mrs. Gill, the cook, and had sent that person away with a notion that her mistress was crazed.
"I have lectured her on the duty of being careful," said she, "in a way quite new to her. I surprised myself; for I never thought about the subject of economy till lately. But it is all theory; for when I came to the practical part, I could not take off a single pound of butter, lard, bread, cold meat, or other kitchen item whatever. And I could not ask the meaning of unaccountable pounds of candles. We do not wash for the parish, yet I viewed in silence bills for enough soap and bleaching-powder to run a laundry. Carnivorous I am not, nor is Mrs. Pryor, yet I only opened my eyes a little wider when I saw the vast butchers' bills. Caroline, you may laugh at me; I am a coward. I blushed and hung my head before Mrs. Gill, when she ought to have been faltering confessions to me. I found it impossible even to hint, much less to prove, that she was a cheat. I have no true courage."
