sheets, of coarse description, three rush-bottom chairs, an old claw
table, a chest of draws with a few battered band-boxes on the top of it,
a miserable bit of carpet before the fire-place, a wooden box for coals,
a little tin fender and an old poker. What there was, however, was kept
clean, the floor and yellow paint was clean, and the washing tub which
sat in one corner of the room.

"It was a bitter cold night, the wind blew and shook the window, when a
young girl of about eighteen sat by the tallow candle, which burned in a
tin candlestick, at 12 o'clock at night, finishing a piece of work with
the needle which she was to return next morning. Her name was Lettice
Arnold. She was naturally of a cheerful, hopeful temper, and though
work and disappointment had faded the bright colors of hope, still hope
buoyed up her spirits.

"Her sister Myra was delicate, and lay on the mattress on that night,
tossing about with suffering, unable to rest. At last Lettice says to
her:--

"'Poor Myra, can't you get to sleep?'

"'It is so cold,' was the reply; 'and when will you have done and come
to bed?'

"'One quarter of an hour more, Myra, and I shall have finished my work,
and then I will throw my clothes over your feet, and I hope you will be
a little warmer.'

"Myra sighed, and lifted up her head, and leaning upon her arm watched
the progress of her sister as she plied the needle to her work.