They soon reached the side of the green slope on the river bank, on which the Connors’ cottage stood, and were following the path to the house, when they encountered Nelly herself, struggling up the hill with a heavy pail of water.  Her brown, weather-tanned face lighted up with a glad smile when she recognised Lucy, and in reply to her inquiry she said she was carrying up water for the next day’s washing.

“And do you carry it all up from the river?” said Lucy.

“Yes, miss, every drop,” replied Nelly, with a weary little sigh.

“Nelly, would you like to learn to read?” asked Lucy, plunging at once into her errand.

“I don’t know, miss,” was the rather doubtful reply.

“Why, wouldn’t you like to be able to read that nice hymn Miss Preston gave you, for yourself?”

“Yes, miss, I’d like to be able, but I don’t know if I’d like the learning.”

Lucy laughed, as did Stella also, and Nelly herself.

“Well, as you can’t be able to do it without learning, don’t you think you’d better try?” asked Lucy.

“I don’t think mother would let me; and I must hurry now, or she’ll be angry at me keeping her waiting, with the baby to mind.”

But just then a large dog, rushing down the hill, upset poor Nelly’s pail.

“Holy Mary!” she exclaimed, using the ejaculation she had been accustomed to hear from infancy, “there’s all my water spilt;” and seizing her pail, she had run down to refill it, before Lucy was able to begin an intended reproof.

The girls watched her refill her pail, and return towards the cottage by a nearer though steeper path.  Mrs. Connor, a tall, bony, discontented-looking woman, had come to the door to look for Nelly.  Not seeing the young ladies, who were approaching the house from the other side, she screamed out in a harsh voice as Nelly approached: 

“What have you been doing all this time, keeping me waiting with the child in my arms?”

“It was a dog,” began Nelly, setting down her pail.  But before she could finish her sentence she was roughly shaken, and sharp blows descended about her ears.

“I’ll teach you to spend your time playing with dogs when I’m waiting for you.  There, be off, and mind the baby;” and Nelly, putting up her hands to her face, ran crying into the house.

Lucy stood for an instant pale with indignation, and then, the impulse of the moment making her forget all her aunt’s warnings as to being conciliatory, and her own prudent resolves, she announced her presence by exclaiming, in a voice unsteady with emotion:  “Mrs. Connor, it’s a shame to beat Nelly like that, when she hasn’t been doing any harm.  It was my fault she was so long, for I stopped her to speak to her, and then a dog overturned her pail.”

Mrs. Connor was startled at finding there had been spectators of her violence; but she did not betray any shame she might have felt, and coolly regarding Lucy, she replied: