The windows were pleasant, but from them Eppie could only see the sky, they were so high above her. From the one on the high seat of which she sat, Frederica could see thousands and thousands of city roofs, with bits of open space here and there, and the river beyond. But it was not a fair sight under drizzling rain and a leaden sky, and so she turned her eyes into the room again. Order was gradually coming out of the confusion of the innumerable white garments by which the little old woman had been surrounded. One after another the great trays were carried and emptied, into the many drawers beneath the eaves; and then coming back to place her empty baskets in a recess made beneath the high window, Eppie saw Frederica. "Preserve us a' lassie! I had no mind o' your being here. It is time for playing yourself now. Why should you be here at this hour?" "I don't care to play with children any more," said Frederica gravely. "Eh, sirs! You'll be growing ower-womanly for the like of that, I suppose. Weel, weel! But you shouldna sit so quiet as to make me forget that you are here. I might be saying things that it wouldna be wise to say in your hearing. Are you no coming down out of that?" "Yes, I am coming, Mrs Campbell. Don't you ever get tired of this place? Is it not awfully dull?" "Dull!" repeated Eppie, "and tired of it! Is it this chamber you mean? Where could I go if I tired of it? I am very thankful to bide in it, I can tell you." "Yes, I suppose so. But don't you get tired of it all the same? What do you look forward to? There is nothing in your life but mending, and keeping count, and--" "Hear the disrespectful lassie! Folding and keeping count, said she. That's but for one day in the week. The mending whiles takes two or three, and there's many a thing besides that I canna be speaking to the likes of you about." "Yes; but not pleasant things, Eppie." "Pleasant things, quo' she! They're my duty. What other would I hae?" "But, Mistress Campbell, dear, if I thought I had to live all my life here, even in this house, I should be miserable." "But then it's no your duty to live here all your life, and that makes the difference. If I were to make myself miserable as you call it, it would be for fear that I mightna get leave to bide here all my life, but I daresay it will be time enough to fret when I'm bidden go." "That will never be. What would Mrs Glencairn and Miss Robina do without you?" "There's no telling," said Eppie, nodding her head many times; "but we'll say no more about it. Are you no coming down from that cold window when I bid you?" "Yes, I'm coming. But, Eppie, how can you be content? Are your father and mother dead? Have you any brothers and sisters? Will it be just the same all your life till you die?"