The old woman sank down upon the edge of her bed and stared at the floor. “That’s what comes of livin’ with common people,” she moaned. “I ain’t used to common folks an’ I ain’t a-goin’ to start runnin’ with ’em now, me that’s sewed for all the best folks in town. I wouldn’t mix with this common lot, not to save their souls I wouldn’t; an’ my little baby child wouldn’t neither; she wouldn’t turn her hand over for er one of ’em.” “Maybe your little niece will come soon,” Julie said catching at that one bright hope. “Sh-sh!” the other commanded. Rising, she tiptoed over to the door again and, raising the handkerchief, bent her old back and peeped out through the keyhole. Then dropping it, she came back to Julie. “That was what I wanted to tell you,” she whispered. “I wouldn’t be surprised if she was to come soon now--real soon. I had a dream last night--I’m mighty apt to have dreams when anything’s goin’ to happen--an’ the dream said she was comin’ soon. That’s why I got to get everything straight for her.” “I’ll help you!” Julie cried eagerly. “We’ll get everything all nice before she comes.” Julie fell to work at once. The old woman attempted a fitful assistance, but her burst of energy gave out before it had carried her far, and soon she retired to the easy chair by the window, watching Julie with dull eyes, or staring down at her lap and moaning, “Oh my Lord, Oh my Lord!” from time to time. Julie was amazingly happy. So happy that she broke into little snatches of song as she moved about the room, dusting and cleaning it, and straightening the wild heap of garments in Miss Fogg’s drawers. So happy that the moaning old woman crumpled up in her chair did not seem repulsive to her, but rather, as always now, an outlet for the abounding joy that surged through her. There was only one little rift the whole morning through. That was when Julie essayed to open a small drawer in Miss Fogg’s bureau. She had turned out and straightened all the others, but when she came to this one it refused to open. Thinking it merely stuck, she tugged upon the handles, but was stopped by a sudden cry, almost a scream, from the old woman. “Leave that drawer alone, leave it alone, I tell you!” she cried. Julie jumped round, startled. Miss Fogg had sprung to her feet, and was glaring at her. “Oh my Lord!” she cried, “Can’t you leave _nothing_ be?” “I’m sorry; I didn’t know it was locked,” Julie apologized hastily. “My Lord! Can’t I have _no_ place to myself no more?” the other stormed, sinking down again and running her trembling hands wildly through her hair. “I’m so sorry,” Julie pleaded again. “See, I’m not touching it. I won’t touch it again.” But it took her some time to soothe Miss Fogg and to win her confidence once more; and always afterward Julie was conscious of a certain uneasiness on the old woman’s part whenever she came near that especial drawer.