A Heart's Bitterness — page 166: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

158 A HEART’S BITTERNESS. in my cottage—it is just near. ‘There are den two of us left, and father is night hand this month. Our place is little, but it is clean and safe.” “Oh, thank you, thank you!” said Violet. I would ‘“T don’t do it for pay—but—because you are young, and seem in trouble, and I like to do what I can. I had asister once; she died; it is for her sake.” Then seeing Violet was faint and trembling, she took her little bag from her, and drawing her hand through her arm, led her to a tiny cottage, very old, and covered with hop vines. The young girl placed Violet in a chintz-cushioned rocking-chair. She took off Violet’s hat, loosened her _ dress, brought water, and bathed her feet, doing all simply and quietly. She looked a little surprised at Violet’s costly silk hose and fine French boots, but said nothing until she had undressed her exhausted guest, and put upon her the night-dress which Violet took from the embroidered bag. The richness of the cambric garment evidently puzzled the young hostess, but she was still silent, and opening one of the beds, said, as she shook up the clean, white pillow, and turned over the snowy sheet: ‘<Tt is as sweet as ever can be, miss; you need not fear.” Indeed, indeed, I am very grateful,” said Violet. ‘“Once you are easy in bed, I will make you a cup of tea, and a bit of toast,” said the girl, but before she did this she shook out, dusted, and folded all Violet’s clothes. Then she made a fire, and prepared tea and toast for Violet, and porridge for herself, chatting freely of her own affairs, as cottage maidens will, but showing a singular delicacy about asking questions of Violet. ‘‘T work in a factory in town,” she said. ‘I’m the last one of our family father has left. Father works at the station. We were six once, but now only two. I’m keep- ing company {with a young man, and we mean to be married as soon as we have saved enough to furnish us a little house where father can live with us, and when Joe gets advanced in the factory. I am Mary Miller, at the box factory in Derby. In the morning I am off by five, but you needn't rise till you are rested... Ill leave you -some breakfast, and you must sleep till you are done, ((0) "Eomichooks