Then, as she stooped down to the oven to get out the dish of bacon for him, "We won't have ours now," she whispered to Jessie; "you and me'll have ours after they're gone, when there's a little peace and quietness," and Jessie, in spite of her hunger, which was making her feel quite sick and faint, felt glad.
"While you are waiting will you run up and talk to Charlie ?" she asked kindly, for she saw Jessie's dread of her father, which was only too plainly written on her face.
"Who is Charlie ?" Jessie asked, "and where is he?
I'd like to go." "You go up-stairs, and on the second landing from this you'll see four doors, one of the back ones is our bedroom, and the next one is Charlie's.

He is my son, you know, he's just about your age, but he's--he's very delicate." Mrs.Lang hesitated a little, and turned her face away from Jessie for a moment.

"He's got to lie in bed all the time, it is very dull for him, and he'll be glad to see you, he knows you are come." The door was banged open and banged shut again.

"What's the use of my taking the trouble to get up, in such weather as this, and shave myself, and--and put myself out like this," grumbled the master of the house, entering half dressed, half asleep, and more than half angry.

"No horses can run--" Jessie crept to the door and escaped as swiftly and silently as possible.