fumbled his way out
into the kitchen, and got a little lamp, which gave but a dim light, and
read, as was his habit, after he had gone to bed, with exceeding
difficulty. He also was subjected to a most absurd annoyance from the
presence of some gritty particles in the bed. After he extinguished his
lamp he could not go to sleep because of them, and lit his lamp again,
and tore the sheet off and shook it. The gritty particles seemed to him
to be crumbs of very hard and dry bread. He made the bed up again after
his clumsy masculine fashion. James had not much manual dexterity, and
rested very uncomfortably, from a pronounced inclination of the
coverings to slide off his feet, and over one side of the bed.

The next morning Emma did not bring hot water for his shaving. She
usually set a pitcher outside his door, but this morning there was none.
He was obliged to go out to the kitchen and prefer a request for some.
"I have jest filled up the coffee-pot and the tea-kettle, and I guess
the water ain't very hot," Emma said in a malicious tone, as she filled
a pitcher for him.

The water was not very hot. James had a severe experience shaving, and
his annoyances were not over then. There was no napkin beside his plate
at breakfast. He did not like to apply to Clemency, whose cold good
morning had served to establish a higher barrier between them, and who
sat behind the coffee urn with a forlorn but none the less severe look.
He also did not like to apply to Gordon for fear of offending her. It
was about as bad to ask Emma, but he finally did, in a low tone.

Emma apparently did not hear. He was forced to repeat his request for a
napkin loudly. Gordon looked up. "Emma, why do you not set the table
properly?" he asked, in a severe tone.

Emma tossed her head and muttered. She brought a napkin, and laid it
beside James's plate with an impetus as if it had been a lump of lead.
Presently James discovered that he had only one spoon, but he made that
do duty for his cereal and coffee, and said nothing. He was aware of
Emma's eyes of covert, malicious enjoyment upon him, as he
surreptitiously licked off the oatmeal, and put the spoon in his coffee.
He began to wonder what he could do, if this state of things was to
continue. It all seemed so absurd, the grievances were so exceedingly
petty. He could not imagine what had so turned Emma against him. He was
even more at a loss where she was concerned than in Clemency's case. A
girl e