Elfie was rather proud of her new mode of living—having a roof to shelter her at night, a little spot she could call home—and she honestly believed Susie could not get on without her; and the feeling that she had some one to take care of, made her more careful of the things which were placed under her charge in the market.
But in spite of her care, and the extra employment it often brought her, the rent money could only be made up sometimes by Susie going without food the day before, for she could not eat the rubbish and refuse Elfie seemed to enjoy. A breakfast or dinner of raw pea-shells Susie could not eat above once or twice; and the stale fruit that Elfie brought home for her often made her ill, so that if she could not afford to buy a loaf, she often preferred being hungry to the chance of being ill and unable to work.
But the greatest trouble of all to Susie was the different way in which she spent Sunday. She missed her mother more on that day than any other; for poor as Mrs. Sanders had been, she had always contrived to go to church and take Susie with her, until she came to Fisher's Lane, and was unable to go out on account of illness. Elfie, however, had no other idea of Sunday than of a day to play more and eat less; for as there were no steps to clean nor baskets to mind, and very little refuse to be found about the market, she generally lay down to sleep, feeling very hungry on Sunday night.
Susie always folded up her work and put it away early on Saturday, that she might have time to clean the room, just as her mother had done. And so Elfie, finding her companion was not going to do any needlework on Sunday, persuaded her to come out to play; and for the sake of pleasing her Susie went. But the rough, noisy games of Elfie's companions, Susie could not enjoy, and she was glad to sit down in a quiet corner and think of her mother and the bright home she had gone to. Then she thought of their walks to church, and what she heard there, and how grieved her mother would be if she could see her now playing with these children, until she felt strongly inclined to run off to church now if only she knew her way.
She resolved not to go out to play again on Sunday; and when the next came round, she said, "Do you know your way to church, Elfie?"
"To church!" repeated Elfie. "They won't let us play there."
"No, I don't want to play," said Susie, looking down at her shabby frock, and wondering whether that was fit to go to church in. "I want to do as mother did, and she always went to church on Sundays."
Elfie looked puzzled. "Church ain't for poor people like us," she said.
"Oh yes, it is. Mother used to say she could never bear the trouble at all, if she could not go to church and get some help from God for it on Sundays."
"Eh? It's all along of the tables and chairs, and sleeping in beds, I suppose," said Elfie, a little disdainfully.