d then knelt down by
the window.

The burden upon her seemed rather heavy, and she went to her only
source of help. Maria lay and looked at the little kneeling figure, so
still there by the window; glanced at the growing light outside the
window, then at her scattered articles of clothing, lying where she had
thrown them or dropped them last night; and at last rolled herself out
of bed and was dressing in earnest when Matilda rose up to go
down-stairs.

"Oh now, you'll soon be ready!" she exclaimed. "Make haste, Maria; and
come down to the kitchen. The fire is the first thing."

Then the little feet went with a light tread down the stairs, that she
might disturb nobody, and paused in the hall. The light struggling in
through the fanlights over the door; the air close; a smell of kerosene
in the parlour; chairs and table in a state of disarrangement; the
litter of Clarissa's work on the carpet; the parlour stove cold. Little
Matilda wished to herself that some other hands were there, not hers,
to do all that must be done. But clearly Maria would never get through
with it. She stood looking a minute; then plunged into the work. She
opened the shutters and the curtains, and threw up the windows. Then
picked up the litter. Then she saw that the services of a broom were
needed; and Matilda fetched the broom, and brushed out the parlour and
the hall. It tired her arms; she was not used to it. Dusting the
furniture was more in her line; and then Matilda came to the conclusion
that if a fire was to be kindled in time this morning, it must be done
by herself; Maria would be fully occupied in the kitchen. So
down-stairs she went for billets of wood for kindling. There was Maria,
in trouble.

"This stove won't draw, Tilly."

"What is the matter?"

"Why _that_. It won't draw. It just smokes."

"It always does draw, Maria."

"Well, it won't to-day."

"Did you put kindling enough in?"

"There's nothing but kindling!--and smoke."

"Why, you've got the damper turned," said Matilda, coming up to look;
"see, that's the matter. It won't light with the damper turned."

"Stupid!" Maria muttered; and Matilda went off to make her own fire.
Happily that did not smoke. The parlour and hall were all in nice
order; the books put in place, and everything ready for the comfort of
people when they should come to enjoy it; and Matilda went to join her
sister in the kitchen. The fire was going there too, and the kitchen
warm, and Mari