kind of misery is always on her--and she asked me to
board her so she wouldn't have to do no cooking before she goes away
in the morning and when she comes back at night."

"With a swift movement of her hand Mrs. Gibbons caught the little
girl, who, behind her back, was making ready to slip off the bed and
on the floor, but as she swung her again in place she kept up her
talking, and by neither rise nor fall was the monotone of her voice
broken.

"I had to get up at five so as to have breakfast in time, for I can't
get the room warm and the things cooked in less'n an hour, and she
has to leave here a little after six so as to take her little girl to
the nursery before she goes to her place, and they ain't noways close
together. The stars are shining when she goes out and they're
shining when she comes in; that is, if the weather's good. She's
been so wore out lately she's been taking her meals again with me,
but I don't see much of her. She goes to bed the minute she's
through supper."

Bettina twisted in her chair. "Do you eat and sleep in here, too?"
she asked. Her eyes were on Mrs. Gibbons. Carefully she kept them
from mine. "Do you always eat in here?"

"We eat in here all the time and sleep in here in winter, because
there ain't but one fire. That goes out early, which is why the
water freezes. Jimmy has to bring it up from the yard in buckets,
and as the nurse-lady who comes down here says we must have fresh air
in the room, being 'tis all four of us sleep in it, I keep the window
open at night. I don't take no stock in all this fresh-air talk.
'Taint only the water what gets froze--"

"Why don't you cover a bucketful of it with one of those tubs?"
Again Bettina's forefinger pointed. "That would keep the wind off
and the water wouldn't freeze if it was covered up."

"I never thought of that. Get back, Rosie!" Mrs. Gibbons made effort
to catch her little daughter, but this time the child wriggled down
from the foot of the bed and came toward me, hands behind her back,
and stared up into my face.

"Whatcha name?"

I told her and asked hers, and without further preliminaries she came
close to me and hunched her shoulders to be taken in my lap.

"We've got to go--we're bound to go, Miss Dandridge!" With a leap
Bettina was out of her chair, and, catching the little girl by the
hand, she drew her from me and dangled in front of her a
once-silvered mesh-bag, took from it a penny, and gave it to