"No, ma'am; we could spare another quart since Mrs. Jay moved away."
"Mrs. Ward tells me that your milk is clean and rich, and that you always give good measure," continued Mrs. Caswell. "I should be glad to have you bring me a quart every evening, that I may have cream for coffee. The milk I take now has no cream, and it seems to be half water."
"We never put water in the milk," answered Nelly. "It is richer sometimes than others, according to the cow's feed; but we never put water in it. I can give you some to-night, if you like," she added, holding up her unemptied pail. "Mrs. Ward only took a pint, and I have a pint left."
"So much the better. Come in, and I will take it at once."
Mrs. Caswell turned out the milk, and Nelly stood meanwhile admiring the neat kitchen,—pleasanter than many parlours,—the flowers on the window-seats, the books on the shelf, and thinking to herself, "How much I should like to have our house looking just like this! I wonder if I ever could!"
As Mrs. Caswell returned the pail, she noticed the book under Nelly's arm.
"What have you there?" she asked, pleasantly.
Nelly produced her large-print Testament and Psalms which Miss Powell had given her, and which was clean and neatly covered, though bearing marks of much use.
"I was going to ask Kitty Brown to hear me read my Sunday-school lesson; but—she was busy," said Nelly, possibly stretching a point so as not to find fault with Kitty. "I don't know all the words, and sometimes she helps me."
"Oh, ho!" said Mrs. Caswell. "Well, Nelly, it is rather late to-night for you to be in the street, so I will not ask you to stay now; but if you will bring your book to-morrow evening, I will help you learn your lesson."