"Thank you, ma'am. I shall be real glad," said Nelly, gratefully.
Here was another friend raised up in time of need; and Nelly, as she hastened home, was more than ever convinced that God did love and take care of her. She was grieved about Kitty's conduct; but in her new-found sense of forgiveness, she was not disposed to be hard upon her former friend.
"Everybody feels out of sorts, sometimes," she reasoned. "I dare say something has happened to vex her. But anyhow, I am glad Mrs. Caswell is going to help me; only I hope she won't be like Mrs. Vandake,—always promising."
The next morning, Nelly was up with the sun, sweeping off the sidewalk and steps, picking up the chips and sticks about the place, and piling the wood up neatly. She then washed off the windows and doors, rubbed up the glass with a newspaper as she had seen the boys do in the shops, cleaned the stove as well as she could, and put the whole house in such order as her means would allow. Granny always slept sound and late in the morning, and Nelly rejoiced in having the place all to herself. She felt, somehow, pretty sure of seeing Mr. Grayson in the course of the day, and she meant to have every thing as decent as possible.
After breakfast, Nelly was not sorry to see granny dressing herself to go out. They had an old neighbour, a distant relation of her grandfather, who had moved away to the other end of the town; and granny now and then made a pilgrimage to see and spend the day with her. Nelly felt in her own mind that if Mr. Grayson did come, it would be much better for granny to be out of the way. As soon as she was left alone, she cleaned the floor in the best possible manner, put every thing to rights about the room, and then, as it was a mild Indian-summer day, she took her favourite seat upon the door-step, where she could keep an eye upon Crummie. Her Testament lay upon the step beside her, and she now and then looked at a verse of her lesson.
In the course of the morning, Mr. Grayson made his appearance, as she expected. He had not much to say to Nelly, however. He looked at the house, inside and out; examined the supports and the foundations; shook his head over the fence and the garden; and grunted at the drain, or what went by the name of one. He also examined Nelly's work, and asked what she expected to get for it; inquired where she got her Testament; told her she must be a good girl, learn all she could, speak the truth, and learn to pay her way; and then went away, leaving Nelly in doubt as to whether he was pleased or displeased by what he had seen.
Presently she saw him in earnest conference with Mr. Vandake. Mr. Vandake was a carpenter and joiner, who also built cisterns, and hung bells, and now and then did a little papering and painting, and was the handy-man of the whole neighbourhood, doing little odd jobs for everybody, and especially for Mr. Grayson himself, who kept him employed more than half the time.
Nelly did not know what to think of all these observations and consultations, and, therefore, wisely determined to think of them as little as possible. So she turned her attention upon her work, and employed herself as busily as she could, till it was time for her to go to Mr. Grayson's office. Then, locking up the house and committing Crummie to the care of a good-natured boy who was watching his own cow upon the common, she set out upon her mission, not without some misgivings, but upon the whole, with very good courage.
Mr. Grayson was sitting as before, writing by the bright open fire in his office.
"Sit down, Nelly," said he, kindly, pushing a chair towards her. "I am busy just now; but I shall soon have done."