to
female intrusion. Living alone, and entertaining scarcely any visitors,
he tried to make himself comfortable in his own way, regardless of
appearances. In his humble apartment sweeping day came but seldom, and
spring-cleaning was unknown. The corners of the ceiling were festooned
with cob-webs; the mantle-piece had accumulated a curious medley of
things, while there was no end to the rubbish that had collected under
the grate. During Gerty's illness, a bed made up on the floor for True,
and the various articles required in her sick-room, had increased the
clutter to such an extent that one almost needed a pilot to conduct him
in safety through the apartment.

Mrs. Sullivan was the soul of neatness in her rooms, in her own dress
for simplicity, and freedom from the least speck or stain. It was to
nurse Gerty, and take care of her in True's absence, that she first
entered a room the reverse of her own; the contrast was painful to her,
and it would have been a real pleasure to clear up and put it to rights;
and she resolved as soon as Gerty got well, to exert herself in the
cause of cleanliness and order, which was, in her eyes, the cause of
virtue and happiness, so completely did she identify outward neatness
and purity with inward peace.

On the day previous to that on which the great cleaning operations took
place, Gerty was observed by Mrs. Sullivan standing in the passage near
her door, and looking wistfully in. "Come in, Gerty," said the kind
little woman; "come in and see me.--Here," added she, seeing how timid
the child felt in intruding into a strange room; "you may sit up here by
the table and see me iron. This is your little dress. I am smoothing it
out, and then your things will all be done! You'll be glad of some new
clothes, shan't you?"

"Very glad, marm," said Gerty. "Am I to take them away, and keep them
all myself?"

"Yes, indeed," said Mrs. Sullivan.

"I don't know where I'll put 'em all; there an't no place in our
room--at least, no very nice place," said Gerty, glancing at the open
drawer, in which Mrs. Sullivan was placing the little dress, adding it
to a pile of neatly-folded garments.

"Why, part of them, you know, you'll be wearing," said Mrs. Sullivan;
"and we must find some good place for the rest."

"You've got good places for things," said Gerty, looking round the room;
"this is a beautiful room."

"Why, it isn't very different from Mr. Flint's. It's just the same size,
and two fr