Your breakfast is ready in the oven," she said, "and I'm sure you
must be famished. I am. I thought I should never get the men
started off. Now, darling," to Charlie, "will you take your
breakfast?" She put down the tray and raised him on his pillow a
little. Jessie, accustomed now to invalids, beat up the pillow and
placed it behind him.

"Is that right?" she asked.

"Oh yes, that's lovely," said Charlie, with a sigh of pleasure.

Mrs. Lang brought forward the tray. Jessie's eye fell on it with
dismay. Trained by Miss Barley in dainty neatness, and by her
grandmother in cleanness and care and thoughtfulness, the sight of it
shocked her. The black dingy tray was smeared and dirty, the slice
of bread rested on it, with no plate between, the knife and fork and
cup were dirty too, and all was put down anyhow. Charlie probably
was not accustomed to daintiness, but this was enough to check
whatever appetite an invalid might have. Jessie longed to take the
tray away, and set it according to her own notions, but she said
nothing, for instinct told her that her mother's feelings would be
hurt if she did, and that it would not be nice for a stranger to come
in and begin to alter things according to her own tastes. She made
up her mind, though, to try in small ways to make things nicer for
the invalid when she got the opportunity.

CHAPTER IX.

MISS PATCH.

The opportunity Jessie yearned for came before long. One morning her
mother had, unexpectedly, to go out very soon after breakfast.

"Jessie," she said, "I haven't been able to touch Charlie's room,
more than to make his bed; you must tidy it while I am out. I shan't
be very long, and there won't be anything more to do than just keep
in the fire in the kitchen."

Jessie was delighted. As soon as her mother had gone she mounted to
Charlie's room laden with brush and dustpan, and a bit of rag for a
duster. Charlie looked up in astonishment when she came in, then
with delight; he loved to have Jessie doing things for him, she did
them so thoroughly and daintily.

"I am going to brush down the cobwebs first," said Jessie, "at least
all that I can reach," she added thoughtfully, "so put your head
right down under the clothes. I wish I had a dust-sheet, but it
can't be helped, I must do without one. Now, steady! I am going to
move your bed out from the wall. One, two, three, and be off!" and
with a tug of her strong young arms she truckled the be