"Yes. I have forgotten," said Maria, closing her eyes.

"O Maria, please do get up! I'm almost dressed; and I can't do the whole, you know. Won't you get up?"

"What's the matter, Tilly?" said her sister, rolling over, and opening her eyes quietly at Matilda.

"I am going down, Maria, in two minutes; and I cannot do everything, you know."

"Clarissa'll help."

"If you expect that, Maria, you will be disappointed. I wish you would come right down and make the fire."

Maria lay still. Matilda finished her dressing, and 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 n.o.body, 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 Maria stood with her hands folded, in front of the stove.

"I don't know what to get for breakfast," she said.

"Is the other room ready?"

"I set the table," said Maria; "but what is to go on it, I don't know."

Matilda went in to look at the state of things; presently called her sister.

"Maria, you didn't sweep the carpet."

"No. Of course I didn't. Rooms don't want to be swept every day."

"This one does. Look at the muss under the table."

"Only some crumbs," said Maria.

"And a bone. Letty was in a hurry yesterday, I guess. Aunt Candy won't like it, Maria; it won't do."

"I don't care whether she likes it."

"But don't you care whether she scolds? because I do. And the room is not nice, Maria. Mother wouldn't have it so."

"Well, you may sweep it if you like."

"I cannot. I am tired. You must make it nice, Maria, won't you? and I'll see about the breakfast."

"The table's all set!" Maria remonstrated.

"It won't take long to do it over, Maria. But what have we got for breakfast?"

"Nothing--that I know."

"Did you look in the cellar?"

"No."

"Why, where _did_ you look?" said Matilda, laughing. "Come; let us go down and see what is there."

In the large, clean, light cellar there were hanging shelves which served the purposes of a larder. The girls peered into the various stores collected on them.

"Here's a dish of cold potatoes," said Maria.

"That will do for one thing," said Matilda.

"Cold?"

"Why, no! fried, Maria."

"I can't fry potatoes."

"Why, yes, you can, Maria; you have seen mamma do it hundreds of times."

"Here's the cold beefsteak that was left yesterday."

"Cold beefsteak isn't good," said Matilda.

"Can't we warm it?"

"How?"

"I don't know; might put it in the oven; it would get hot there.