She had tried to honor Nancy as her guest, and so had given her the best resting-place which the cottage afforded.

Nancy wondered if Sue were yet awake.

“Sue!” she whispered.  “Yes,” whispered Sue in reply.

“Isn’t it time to get up now?”

“Not yet,” said Sue, “fer Mis’ Ferris don’t hev her breakfast till ’bout ten, an’ it ain’t pleasant ter wander ’round a cold house when there ain’t no reason fer it, an’ she don’t want wood burned fer a fire until I use it ter git breakfast with.  Ye might try ter git ter sleep agin; they’s nothin’ else ter do.”

One glance around the dingy chamber would have told any one that much could be done before a ten-o’clock breakfast, but Mrs. Ferris wished the house to be quiet during the early hours of the morning.

And in spite of the fact that she was very wide awake, Nancy did go to sleep.

At first she amused herself by staring at the odd-shaped scrolls and blossoms upon the paper.  There were blue and yellow flowers with bright green leaves, supported upon latticework of a queer shade of brown.

Nancy thought the vines looked as if they were crawling, and that the yellow blossoms were shaped like huge bugs.  The longer she looked at it the more it seemed as if those vines did really move upon the wall.  While she watched them she dropped to sleep and dreamed that she was trying to dance, but could not do the graceful steps which she so well knew, because those vines had come down from the wall, and were tangled about her feet.

When she again awoke the sun was shining brightly, and she could hear the rattling of dishes down in the little kitchen.

She sprang up, and hurriedly dressed, wondering why Sue had not called her.  There was frost upon the window-pane, and she shivered.  Each garment which she put on seemed colder than the one before.

She searched the room for a button-hook, and finding none, ran down to the kitchen.

“Thought I wouldn’t call ye till we got a bit warmed up,” said Sue.

“What’s that?  No.  I ain’t seen no button-hook in this place, but ye jest set on that chair an’ I’ll fasten yer boots fer ye.”

She took a huge, crooked hair-pin from her hair, and buttoned Nancy’s boots with wonderful speed, when the tool which she worked with was considered.

And what a breakfast that was, which Nancy ate from a blue-edged pie-plate that was badly crackled.

A small piece of very tough ham, an egg fried for ten minutes, until it looked and tasted like leather, a boiled potato the color of lead, and a biscuit of about the same hue.

“I don’t s’pose ye’re used ter drinkin’ tea, but I guess I’ll give ye some ter wash yer bread down.  That biscuit’s kinder dry,” and she offered Nancy a cup of drink, which, from its flavor, might have been tea—­or anything else.

The little kitchen was dingy, and the food not at all like the appetizing fare which she usually enjoyed, but she was hungry, and Sue felt flattered that Nancy ate the breakfast which she had served.