“What shall I do first?” she asked timidly, when she was ready.  In her clean pinafore, with her hair well brushed, and her cheeks still glowing from the cold water, she looked so fresh and such a pleasant sight to see, that a ray of something like pleased surprise showed itself for a moment even on Mrs. Lang’s tired face.

“Can you wash up two or three of the cups and things without smashing them?” she asked.

“Oh yes,” said Jessie, almost reproachfully, “I always do at home.”  But the mere mention of that name brought the tears to her eyes, and prevented her saying more.

“Well, do that first.  You needn’t wash more than two cups and plates.  I’d better lend you something to put on over your clean apron, or you’ll be wanting another before the day is out.”

“I’ve got my overalls here,” said Jessie, with pride.  “Granny made me two,” and she stepped to the old bag and lifted out a dark-blue galateen pinafore which covered her all up to the hem of her frock.

When she came back from washing the dishes she brought the sweeping-brush with her, and, as a matter of course, began to sweep up the littered floor.  Mrs. Lang opened her mouth to tell her to stop, then apparently thought better of it, and let her go on.  The kitchen swept, Jessie asked for a duster to dust the chairs and other things, which needed it badly enough!

“A duster!  Don’t bother me about such things.  We haven’t got any.”

Jessie looked nonplussed.  “May I have this?” she asked at last, picking up a bit of rag from a pile of things untidily heaped on a chair.  Mrs. Lang, though, was gone, and did not hear her.  Jessie looked at the rag, and pondered.  At last, however, the temptation to wipe off some of the dust became too much for her, and she used it.  “I can wash out the rag again,” she comforted herself by thinking.  “I wonder what I had better do next,” for Mrs. Lang had not returned.  “I s’pose I’d better sweep out the passage and brush down the steps.  Oh, I do want some breakfast!” she added, with a sigh.

While she was sweeping down the steps before the front door, her stepmother came into the kitchen again.  The semblance of a smile crossed her face as she looked at the neatly-arranged chairs, and heard the broom going in the distance.

“We’re to be kept tidy, now, I s’pose,” she muttered, with a laugh.  “I wonder how long it’ll last.  She won’t get much encouragement here.”

Jessie came into the kitchen with her broom, and found her stepmother frying bacon.  It smelt very good, and Jessie was ravenously hungry.

“Does father have to go to work every day as early as this?” she asked.

“Work!” cried Mrs. Lang, with a scornful laugh.  “Work!  I’ve never known your father work since he crossed my path!  It’s the races he’s off to; you wouldn’t find him get up at this hour for anything else.”

Jessie stared wide-eyed.  “Doesn’t he ever work?” she gasped.  “How does he live, then?”