I was greatly relieved at this change of front. Hannah was looking quite gentle. She was moving about in the kitchen in quite an orderly fashion. The little cooking-stove was black instead of grey; there were no ashes to be seen anywhere, and a bright little fire burned in it. There was a pot on, and there was something boiling in the pot, and the thing that boiled and bubbled gave forth a most appetising smell. When I spoke Hannah turned and opened the oven door, and I saw inside a great cake. "Why, Hannah!" I said. "It's only right to have cake and that sort of thing handy," she said. "Don't talk nonsense, Dumps. There's a deal for you and me to do. Be you going to school to-day?" "No," I said. "Why will you keep away?" "Because I won't go." "You will get a report; your mistress will be very angry." "I don't care," I said; "I won't go. I'll go afterwards. I won't go this week." "Highty-tighty!" said Hannah. "Well, you'll catch it!" "Seems to me I'm always catching it," I said. "Seems to me you are," said Hannah. "Well, Hannah, what about the spare room?" "I'll see to it myself. I'll have it ready." "Can I help you, Hannah?" "No; but you can come and look on if you like." "Don't you want Mrs Herring? She is so strong. Everything should be turned out; the place should be made very clean." "I don't want none of your herrings nor your sprats neither," replied Hannah in her most aggressive tone. This was a very old joke of Hannah's. I went upstairs now. The spare room was on the same landing as the drawing-room, and, as far as I could tell, had never been of any use at all to any single member of the family. Perhaps in mother's time it had been of service to some long-forgotten guest. The door was always locked. I supposed Hannah had the key. At nights sometimes, when the wind was blowing high, there was a moaning, through the keyhole of that locked door, and there were times when I flew past it up and up and up to my own attic bedroom. But now I stood outside the door. At the other side of the landing was the drawing-room. It was a very big room with three windows. We sat there sometimes when father had his professors, men very nearly as learned as himself--not quite, of course--to visit him. I went into the drawing-room. It was very ugly, and not nearly as cosy as the parlour. The spare room I had never seen the inside of that I could remember. Hannah came up now, and took a great bunch of keys from her pocket and opened the door, and we went in. "Oh, how musty it smells!" I said. "In course it do," said Hannah. "When a room's shut up for going on fourteen years, why shouldn't it smell musty? But there, child! don't you go and catch your death of cold. The first thing is to air the room and then to light a fire. Afterwards I'll rub up the furniture and put up clean hangings. It won't be exactly a cheerful sort of room, but I suppose the master must be content."