"Shall I knock for you?"
"I don't know what for. She yells anyway, whenever I come in, whether she's knocked or not. Just open the door."
Jane opened the door gently, and they went in together. The room was half darkened, and only a little sharp nose showed over the top of the bedquilt.
"Here's your supper," said the affectionate sister, "and here's Jane."
A shrill cry was followed by two eyes tipping upward beyond the nose. "Oh, are you Jane?" There was a lot of pathos in the tone.
The girl moved quickly to the bedside. "I hope that we're going to be very happy," she said; "we must love one another very much, you know."
The invalid hoisted herself on to an elbow and looked towards the plate which Matilda was holding forth.
"Oh, my! Fish again!" she wailed.
Later—on their way back to the kitchen fire—Matilda said significantly: "Most ungrateful person I ever saw, she is. But just don't notice what she says. It's the only way to get on. I keep her room tidy and I keep her house clean and I keep her garden weeded. I'm careful of her money, and she's well fed. I don't know what more any one could ask, but she ain't satisfied and she ain't always polite, but you'll only have three weeks of what I've had for five years, so I guess it won't kill you."
"Oh, I think that I'll be all right," Jane answered cheerfully.