The Good 'Dosie was preaching now.

"Wait! Count ten!" she preached. "Don't get any angrier, or you'll see
red instead of pink. Think of that poor child's burned thumbs--think of
her having to take to her bed when she got through--"

"I don't wonder!" snapped Bad 'Dosie.

"Wait--wait! Aren't you going to be good? Do you remember what you used
to do, to help out? Well?"

Miss Theodosia dropped the starchy mass on top of the other newspaper
bundles and rather suddenly sat down in a chair. She saw a little child,
preached to and penitent, on her knees, with folded hands, saying "Now I
lame me down to sleep."

It was very still in the room. Miss Theodosia's eyes closed and opened
again. It was as if she had said "Now I lame me." A little smile tugged
at the corners of her mouth. She no longer saw even pink.

She got up briskly and began turning back her cuffs. First, she would
build the kitchen fire; it must roar and snap, with all the work it had
to do to-night. She would heat a lot of water, for only boiling water
could take out Stefana's awful starch. While the water was heating, she
would eat her supper.

"A good, big supper, it will have to be," smiled this gentled Miss
Theodosia. "I've got to get up my strength! No tea-and-toast-and-jam
supper to-night." She heated her gridiron smoking hot and broiled a bit
of steak. She tossed together little feathery biscuit and made coffee,