ranny drew back the
curtains sharply, as though to give vent to her feelings. The perplexity
in Mona's mind increased. She was troubled, too, by the marked change in
her grandmother. In the bright morning light which now poured in, she
noticed for the first time a great difference in her appearance as well as
in her manner. She was much thinner than she used to be, and very pale.
Her face had a drawn look, and her eyes seemed sunken. She seemed,
somehow, to have shrunken in every way. Her expression used to be smiling
and kindly. It was now peevish and irritable.

For the first time Mona realised that her grandmother had been very ill,
and not merely complaining.

"I'll light the fire, granny, in a minute--I mean, I would if I knew what
to put on."

"There's one of your very old frocks upstairs, hanging behind the door in
your own room. It's shabby, and it's small for you, I expect, but you'll
have to make it do, if you haven't got any other."

"It'll do for the time, till my pink one is fit to wear again."

"Yes--but who's going to make it fit? That's what I'd like to know.
Can you do it yourself? I s'pose you'd have to if you was with your
stepmother."

"No, I can't do it. Do you think Mrs. Lane would? I'd do something for
her----"

Her grandmother turned to her with a look so full of anger that Mona's
words died on her lips. For the moment she had forgotten all about the
quarrel.

"Mrs. Lane! Mrs. Lane! After the things she said about you--you'd ask
her to do you a favour? Well, Mona Carne, I'm ashamed of you! Don't you
know that I've never spoken to her nor her husband since that day she said
you'd pulled down the faggots that threw me down, and then had left her
cats to bear the blame of it. I've never got over that fall, and I've
never got over her saying that of you, and, ill though I've been,
I've never demeaned myself by asking her to come in to see me.
I don't know what you can be thinking of. I'm thankful I've got more
self-respect."

Mona's face was crimson, and her eyes were full of shame. Oh, how
bitterly she repented now that she had not had the courage to speak out
that day and say honestly, "Granny, Mrs. Lane was right, I did pull over
the faggots and forgot them. It was my fault that you tripped and fell--
but I never meant that the blame should fall on anyone else."

She longed to say it now, but her tongue failed her. What had been such a
little thing to start with