That night Alice, who missed her cradle, was unusually restless, and Mary, remembering Mrs. Grundy’s threat, carried her in her arms until after midnight.  Then without undressing she threw herself upon the bed, and, for the first time in many weeks, dreamed of George and his parting promise to see her again.  The next morning when she awoke she found Mr. Parker’s prediction verified, for the clouds were pouring rain.  “Billy won’t come to-day,” was her first thought, and throwing herself upon the floor she burst into tears, wishing as she had once done before that she had died with her mother.

In the midst of her grief the door was pushed hastily open, and Mrs. Grundy’s harsh voice exclaimed, “Wall, so you are up at last, hey?  I didn’t know but you was goin’ to take it upon you to sleep over, but that don’t answer here.”

“Is it after breakfast time?” asked Mary.

“After breakfast time,” repeated Mrs. Grundy.  “No, but I guess you’ll find there’s something to do before breakfast, or did you think we’s goin’ to support you in idleness?”

Here, touched perhaps by the pale, tearful face uplifted to hers, Mrs. Grundy’s voice softened, and in a milder tone she added, “We won’t mind about it, seein’ it’s the first morning, but come, you must be hungry by this time.”

Although so poor, Mrs. Howard had been extremely neat and as she said “cold water cost nothing,” she had insisted upon her children’s being very nice and particular in their morning toilet.  Mary remembered this, and now casting a rueful glance around the room she said, “I wonder where I am going to wash me.”

The loud, scornful laugh which followed this remark made her look up amazed at Mrs. Grundy, who replied, “In the back room sink, of course.  May-be you expected to have a china bowl and pitcher in your room, and somebody to empty your slop.  I wonder what airs paupers won’t take on themselves next.”

“I didn’t mean to take airs,” said Mary; “I don’t care where I wash myself, but Alice is sick, and mother had me bathe her every morning.  While we were at Mrs. Bender’s, though, I didn’t do it, and I don’t think she seems as well.”

“Pride and poverty,” muttered Mrs. Grundy.  “She won’t get many baths here, I can tell you, nor you either, unless it is a dishwater one.  Know how to wash dishes hey?”

“Yes, ma’am,” said Mary meekly.

“Then I’ll give you a chance to try your hand after breakfast, but come, I’m in a hurry.”

Mary glanced at Alice.  She was sleeping sweetly, and though there seemed to be no reason, she still lingered.

“What are you waiting for?” asked Mrs. Grundy, and Mary, with some hesitation, answered, “I haven’t said my prayers yet.”

A change passed suddenly over Mrs. Grundy’s face, and she turned away without a word.  When she was gone Mary fell on her knees, and though the words she uttered were addressed more to her mother than to God, she felt comforted, and rising up started for the kitchen.  It was a motley group which she found assembled around the breakfast table, and as she entered the room, the man called Uncle Peter smiled on her, saying, “Come here, little daughter, and let me touch you with the tip of my fourth finger.”