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they what?’
    ‘As you hoped?’
    ‘Yes, they are,’ said Mrs Innisfree.
    The sofa and chairs stood on the table in her drawing room. ‘Look,’ she said, and with her scissors she ripped off what Emily had left of the stuffing, the torn bits, and dirty old
cotton; soon the chairs and sofa were bare down to their seats. ‘Look,’ said Mrs Innisfree, ‘the wood is good, quite solid. Do you see, Emily, the little legs are turned. They are
scratched and discoloured, but the good work is there. Do you see that when things are beautifully made, how beautifully they last?’
    ‘These don’t look as if they had lasted,’ objected Charlotte. ‘They look fit to throw away.’
    ‘That is because you haven’t looked into them. Wait and see,’ said Mrs Innisfree. She opened a drawer and took out two pieces of sandpaper and rubbed them against each other.
‘That’s to smooth them a little because they are too rough – they must not scratch the wood too deeply’ She picked up a little chair and began to rub its leg.
    ‘But – you are taking all its polish off.’
    ‘And the dirt and scratches. Now you and Charlotte rub them, and when they are quite clean and smooth we shall take them to a man I know who is a French polisher, and we shall ask him if
he will help us. I think he will,’ said Mrs Innisfree.
    ‘But – would a real French polisher polish them?’
    ‘He might, if we can make him interested,’ said Mrs Innisfree. ‘People will do anything if they are interested.’
    ‘But what about the seats and arms and backs? They were all cushioned before.’
    ‘They can be cushioned again.’
    ‘But with what? Mother says that nowhere, anymore, anywhere, can you buy stuff like that they were cushioned with,’ said Emily.
    ‘Have you seen this?’ asked Mrs Innisfree, and she picked up a footstool that was standing by the table and showed it to them. Its top was of embroidery, flowers, worked very finely,
in the same mice stitches that Tottie had talked about, stitches like the sampler, only finer.
    ‘This is called petit-point. Have you ever seen a chair like it?’ asked Mrs Innisfree. ‘A tapestry chair?’
    ‘Oh!’ said Emily. ‘Oh! You mean—’
    ‘Yes. What could be better than tiny tapestry chairs and couch?’ asked Mrs Innisfree.
    ‘Dolls’ tapestry would have to be very, very fine,’ said Emily slowly. ‘Could anybody work it?’ she asked doubtfully.
    ‘I have worked it so that it was very fine indeed.’
    ‘It would be beautiful,’ breathed Charlotte. ‘But we couldn’t do it, not Emily, nor I. It would take us years and years to learn. Our great-grandmother could have done
it. Perhaps there was some use in working samplers,’ said Charlotte mournfully. ‘Now who – who – who –’
    Mrs Innisfree had not answered. She had opened a drawer and was taking out a roll of fine canvas and a box of silks.
    ‘You!’ said Emily and Charlotte together. ‘You! You mean you would work it for us?’
    ‘It would not take me very long,’ said Mrs Innisfree. ‘I think I could do it. Anyway I could try. Suppose you stay to lunch with me and then we could choose patterns and
colours. Of course we shall need an upholsterer as well as a French polisher,’ said Mrs Innisfree, ‘but I have another friend who would do that for us. I think it will be far nicer and
of course far cheaper,’ she said with a sideways look at the children, ‘than the little set in Wigmore Street that you wanted to buy.’
    ‘What a great deal we are learning about things,’ said Emily, ‘all these beautiful old things.’
    ‘But you mustn’t think it is only the old things that are beautiful,’ said Mrs Innisfree. ‘We can do as good work nowadays if we have the same patience.’
    ‘Yes – patience!’ said Charlotte. Truth to tell, her hand was aching very much from the sandpapering, but she went on rubbing.
    They had lunch with Mrs Innisfree. What did they have? They had plaice, which is fish,