“Rind,” said Miss Grundy to the girl with crooked feet, who was washing the milk-pail, “ain’t there nary spare room in the dark passage?”

“None but the wool room, as I know on,” was Rind’s sullen response.

“Well, wool room ‘tis then,—­for, as for my being kep’ awake night after night, by a good for nothin’ young one, that hain’t no business here, any way, I shan’t do it.  So (speaking to Mary) you may just pick up your duds and move this very morning.”

“Going to put ’em in with the wool?” asked Rind, suspending operations, and holding up the pail so that the water ran out of the spout.

“You shet up,” said Miss Grundy, “and wait until you’re invited to speak.  Goodness alive, look at that slop!  Tip up the pail, quick.”

By this time Mary had found courage to say she thought Alice would be better if she could have her usual bath every morning.  This only increased Miss Grundy’s wrath, and she whirled round so swiftly, that her forehead came in contact with the sharp edge of the cellar door, which chanced to be open.

“Good,” softly whispered Rind, while the shuffling motion of her club feet showed how pleased she was.

Mary, on the contrary, was really distressed, for she knew the bumped head would be charged to her, and felt sure that she was further than ever from the attainment of her object.  Still, after Miss Grundy’s forehead was duly bathed in cold water, and bound up in a blue cotton handkerchief (the lady’s favorite color), she again ventured to say, “Miss Grundy, if you will only let me wash Alice in my room, I’ll promise she shan’t disturb you again.”

After a great deal of scolding and fretting about whims stuck-up notions, and paupers trying to be somebody, Miss Grundy, who really did not care a copper where Alice was washed, consented, and Mary ran joyfully up stairs with the bucket of clear, cold water, which was so soothing in its effects upon the feeble child, that in a short time she fell into a deep slumber.  Mary gently laid her down, and then smoothing back the few silken curls which grew around her forehead, and kissing her white cheek, she returned to the kitchen, determined to please Miss Grundy that day, if possible.

But Miss Grundy was in the worst of humors, and the moment Mary appeared she called out, “Go straight back, and fetch that young one down here.  Nobody’s a goin’ to have you racin’ up stairs every ten minutes to see whether or no she sleeps with her eyes open or shet.  She can stay here as well as not, and if she begins to stir, Patsy can jog the cradle.”