tand, two chairs,
and a gayly decorated bureau, Norma's especial property, set forth with
bottles of perfumery, a satin pin-cushion and a bunch of artificial
flowers in a vase. And in putting the room thus to rights, when it is
considered that every drop of water used upon floor, table or window,
had to be carried up four flights of stairs, the sincerity of Mary's
conversion to the angelic way of regarding things cannot be doubted.

Nor, if Mary's word can be taken, were these efforts wasted upon her
little ladyship, who, awakened by the bustle on the very first occasion
of Mary's crusade against the general disorder, sat up in the crib
donated by Mrs. O'Malligan,--the last of the O'Malligans being now in
trousers,--and hung over the side with every mark of approving interest.
And happy with something to love and an object to work for, Mary
continued to scrub on with a heart strangely light. "And I couldn't
slight the corners if I wanted to," she told her neighbors, "with them
great solemn eyes a-watchin' an' a-follerin' me."

It was on a morning following one of these general upheavals and
straightenings that the three sat down to breakfast, the two ladies
feeling unwontedly virtuous and elegant by reason of their clean
surroundings. The Angel seeming brighter and more willing to leave
Mary's side, Norma put her into one of their two chairs, and herself
sat on the bed. But no sooner had the baby grabbed her cracked mug than
her smooth forehead began to pucker, and, setting it down again, she
regarded Norma earnestly. "Didn't a ought to _say_ something?" she
demanded, and her eyes grew dark with puzzled questioning.

"And what should you say, darling?" returned Norma, leaning over to
crumble some bread into the milk which a little judicious pinching in
other directions made possible for the child.

The baby studied her bread and milk intently. "Jesus"--she lisped, then
hesitated, and her worried eyes sought Norma's again,--"Jesus"--then
with a sudden joyful burst of inspiration, "Amen," she cried and seized
her mug triumphantly.

"It's a blessing she is asking," said Norma with tears in her eyes, "I
know, for I've seen it done on the stage, though what with the food
being pasteboard cakes and colored plaster fruit, I never took much
stock in it before," and she laughed somewhat unsteadily.

"Bread and butter, come to supper," sang the baby with sudden glee,
"that what Tante says.--Where Angel's Tante?" and with th