t have a
better chance of some rest that day. Little enough, with a lodger coming
that evening! To get her things up there,--that was all Nettie would do
to-day; but that must be done. The steep stairs to the attic went up
from the entry way, just outside of Nettie's door. She went up the first
time to see what place there was to bestow anything.

The little garret was strewn all over with things carelessly thrown in,
merely to get them out of the way. There was a small shutter window in
each gable. One was open, just revealing the utter confusion; but
half-showing the dust that lay on everything. The other window, the back
one, was fairly shut up by a great heap of boxes and barrels piled
against it. In no part was there a clear space, or a hopeful opening.
Nettie stood aghast for some moments, not knowing what to do. "But if I
don't, mother will have to," she thought. It nerved her little arm, and
one thought of her invisible protection nerved her heart, which had sunk
at first coming up. Softly she moved and began her operations, lest her
mother down stairs should hear and find out what she was about before it
was done. Sunday too! But there was no help for it.

Notwithstanding the pile of boxes, she resolved to begin at the end with
the closed window; for near the other there were things she could not
move: an old stove, a wheelbarrow, a box of heavy iron tools, and some
bags of charcoal and other matters. By a little pushing and coaxing,
Nettie made a place for the boxes, and then began her task of removing
them. One by one, painfully, for some were unwieldy and some were
weighty, they travelled across in Nettie's arms, or were shoved, or
turned over and over across the floor, from the window to a snug
position under the eaves where she stowed them. Barry would have been a
good hand at this business, not to speak of his father: but Nettie knew
there was no help to be had from either of them; and the very thought of
them did not come into her head. Mr. Mathieson, provided he worked at
his trade, thought the "women-folks" might look after the house; Barry
considered that when he had got through the heavy labours of school, he
had done his part of the world's work. So Nettie toiled on with her
boxes and barrels. They scratched her arms; they covered her clean face
with dust; they tried her strength; but every effort saved one to her
mother, and Nettie never stopped except to gather breath and rest.

The last thing o