Annie went to her room. She was so weary that she could not even think any longer. The box which held her few possessions had arrived. She took out her nightdress and, soon afterward, got into bed. She slept heavily all night, but toward morning she began to have confused and troubled dreams with regard to Belle’s wooden box. She wished she had not been with Belle when she counted her money. The thought of that
money became an oppression and a dreadful nightmare to her.
At seven o’clock the servant appeared with a daintily prepared tray containing tea.
“Mrs. Acheson hopes you are quite rested, miss. She says if you are at all tired she would like you to stay in bed for breakfast.”
“Oh, no, I am quite refreshed. Tell her I thank her very much,” said poor Annie.
The girl bustled about the room preparing Annie’s bath. She then left her to enjoy her tea.
Annie sat up and stirred the cream into the fragrant cup.
“How queer and dreamlike and wonderful all this is,” she said to herself. “I enjoying tea at this hour in bed, and drinking it out of such delicate china; and, oh, what a sweet little silver spoon! How pretty the room is and everything belonging to it; and yet I possess only four shillings in the world. Mrs. Acheson is quite the sweetest woman I ever met. Oh, if my own mother had only lived. I should not be the miserable, hopeless creature I am to-day!”
At breakfast Belle was in the best of spirits. She also had dreamed about her hostel, and the thought of the money she had saved was reflected in her face. After breakfast she proposed to Annie that they should spend the morning at the British Museum.
“I can easily get you a day’s ticket for the reading room,” she said. “You shall sit near me, and we can have a good time.”