Jane moved towards the door. "I'll go and make some right away," she said.
Susan's small, bright eyes looked after her very hard indeed. "I wonder if you really mean what you say about my doing what I please."
"Of course I mean what I say."
"Then I want to go back into my own room."
The niece stopped. "Isn't this your room?" she asked in surprise.
"No, this is the nearest room to the top of the stairs. I'll show you which is my room." With a quick leap she was out of bed.
"Barefooted!" cried Jane.
"I'll get into slippers quick enough, and I always wear stockings in bed. It's one of my peculiar ways. I'm very peculiar." She was running out of the room. Jane followed, astonished at the strength and steadiness of the bedridden.
"But I thought that—that you were always in bed," she stammered.
Susan stopped short and turned about. "It was the pleasantest way to get along," she said briefly. "I guess that you've a really kind heart, so I'll trust you and tell you the truth. Matilda wasn't here very long before I see that if her patience wasn't to give out, I'd got to begin to fail. I went to bed, and I've failed ever since. I've failed steady. It's been the only thing to do. It wasn't easy, but it was that or have things a lot harder. So I failed."