"I believe you know that covenant by heart," said Maria. "I don't. And I don't care. Matilda, I wish you would run down cellar with the butter, and the cream, and the bread—will you?"
Matilda did not run, but she made journey after journey down the cellar stairs, with feet that grew weary; and then she dried the china while her sister washed it. Then they brushed up the kitchen and made up the fires. Then Maria seated herself on the kitchen table and looked at Matilda.
"I'm tired now, Tilly."
"So am I."
"Is there anything else to be done?"
"Why, there is the dinner, Maria."
"It isn't near dinner time. It is only ten o'clock."
"How long will it take the potatoes to boil?"
"Oh, not long. It is not time to put them on for a great while."
"But they are not ready, are they?"