Jessie woke with a great start, and sprang up, struggling with the shawl which was still wrapped about her head.  Free of this, she looked about her in a dazed way, trying to rouse herself and collect her wits.  It was not yet daylight, of course, and the lighted lamp stood on the table in the midst of the dirty dishes just as it had the night before; her stepmother too—­her hair and dress and whole appearance were exactly as they had been the night before, the only difference being that she seemed, if anything, less agreeable.

“Wake up! wake up!” she called sharply again.  “I want you to make yourself useful, not to be giving me more trouble.  Get on your things, then light the fire as quick as you can—­no, I’ll light the fire to-day, because your father can’t bear to be kept waiting, but I shall look to you to do it other mornings, and to get up without being called, too.”

“Yes,” said Jessie dutifully, “I hope I shall be able to wake up.”  She was so sleepy at the moment that she could scarcely stand, or see to get into her garments.  She looked around her for a place where she could wash.  Cold water would help her to wake up, perhaps.  It was really painful to be so terribly sleepy.

“Please, where can I wash?” she asked at last.  “I—­I can’t wake—­up; I—­I—­” and she was asleep again.  Her stepmother’s sharp voice soon roused her, though.

“A place to wash in!” she snapped crossly.  “Why, you must wait until some of them have gone out, then you can go to one of the bedrooms, unless you’d like to wash at the tap, out there,” pointing to the scullery; “there’s a dipper there you can use.”

Jessie gladly accepted the last offer.  She was longing to feel the freshness of cold water on her aching head and heavy eyes, and her hot face, and she groped her way out to the scullery.

It was lighted by a candle only, but even so Jessie could see the untidy muddle of everything.  The sink by the tap was crowded with pots and pans and dirty dishes, and so was the table and the dirty floor.  Where was she to wash, and where was the dipper?  She looked around her hopelessly.  She was so heavy with sleep she could hardly see, so aching in every limb she could scarcely stand; and the sight of the miserable place, and the close smell of it, made her feel positively sick and ill.

She did not dare, though, trouble her stepmother any further, she had to act for herself; so she looked about her, first of all for the dipper, and presently saw it standing, full of potato peelings, on the floor under the sink.  She seized it thankfully, and emptying its contents on to a dirty plate, went to the tap and gave it a good wash out.  While she was doing this her eye fell on a piece of soap.  At last she managed to draw a dipperful of clean fresh water, and glad enough she was; it felt so delicious, in fact, and she enjoyed it so much, she could not bear to tear herself away from it, until her mother’s sharp voice brought her back to her duties again, and the rest of her toilet was finished more hurriedly.