"You look warm and tired now, dearie," she said, pushing back the hair caressingly from her little daughter's flushed face, "go upstairs and be washed and dressed. Then if there is nothing else you prefer to do I should very much enjoy hearing you read from one of your new books. I feel tired, and should like to lie on the sofa and listen to you."
Nellie brightened immediately, inwardly as well as outwardly. She could be useful to mamma still, if she must leave the store-room; and she ran away to remove the traces of her late toil, and make herself neat and nice.
She was in her own room, washing her face, when she heard a short, quick step running along the hall. She thought it was Carrie's, and called aloud, meaning to tell her she was going to read to her mother, and to ask if she would like to hear the story.
"Carrie!" she called from out of the folds of the towel where she had just buried her face.
No answer; but the step paused for a moment, then ran on.
"Carrie!" this time louder and clearer, for her voice was no longer smothered in the towel.
Still no answer; but Nellie heard the door at the foot of the garret steps softly closed.
"Why! how queer," she said to herself, "what can Carrie be going up to the garret all alone for? I don't believe it was Carrie, it must have been Johnny going up to his printing-press or something."
For Johnny was the only one of the family who much frequented the garret, he having a printing-press, carpenter's tools and other possessions up there.