day evenings--weak,
indeed, but we thought it delicious; on other evenings we had
milk-and-water and bread-and-butter.

My nurse soon came back with her purchase. The large kettle was set on
the fire, the great brown loaf was brought out, and nurse began cutting
slices of bread-and-butter for us.

The children were so delighted at the thoughts of the treat they were to
have that they began dancing about the floor, and I, forgetting my late
sorrow, joined in their sports. When the repast was quite ready we took
our places, some at the table, and some on the benches, as we could find
room. Nurse gave each of us a little basin of tea and a good slice of
bread-and-butter, and I think I may say that the whole body of aldermen
dining at the Lord Mayor's feast never ate their meal with half the zest
that we felt in sipping our homely tea, and eating our brown bread.

Soon after the tea was over nurse proposed my returning home, as the
days were short, and as she did not wish me to be out after it was dark.
I felt a pang at the idea of so soon parting with my good nurse, but
without replying I immediately put on my bonnet and cloak. Nurse and the
children accompanied me a full mile on my way home, and then we parted
with tears on both sides.

Chapter IV

It was a very fine morning, the sun shone brightly, the fields, hedges,
and trees were covered with snow, which, as the air was very cold, did
not melt, but sparkled and glittered most beautifully. I gazed with much
pleasure on the scenery as we passed along, and should have been
cheerful, but I was with strangers, who took very little notice of me,
scarcely speaking to me the whole day, so that I could not help feeling
sorrowful, and sometimes even wished myself back again with Mrs. Dawson.

About seven o'clock in the evening we stopped at a small shop in one of
the cross streets in the Borough. There I was told that we were at home.
We entered, and I gave a curious and somewhat fearful glance round the
place. The shop was set out partly with umbrellas and partly with shoes,
but everything seemed dirty and in confusion. Shoe-lasts,
umbrella-sticks, and a large quantity of whalebone, were lying in heaps
about the floor, while in one corner stood a large pan of dirty water
in which they soaked the leather, and which, not being often changed,
sent forth a most unpleasant smell; the floor did not appear as if it
was swept once in a month. We entered the parlour, which was