As she reclines there, we will venture to take a look at her: not a phrenological glance, for she has a cap on her head; under its frilled borders peep some wiry artificial curls; her lips are thin and vixenish; her nose sharp and long, with a bridge which seems to defy the beholder to cross her will; her dress clings very tightly to her bean-pole figure; and on her long arm hangs a black velvet bag, containing her spectacles, snuff-box, and some checkerberry lozenges, which she has a pleasant way of chewing before the children in school hours. You may know that she expects a call to-day, because she has on her festal gilt breast-pin with a green stone in the center. "Beg your pardon, ma'am; sorry to wake you," said Timmins, with a very flushed face; "but I can't do nothing with that young one, though I have tried my best. I went up stairs to wash her all over, according to rule, before I put on the school uniform; and when I began to strip her, she pulled her clothes all about her, and held them tight, and cried, and took on, saying that nobody ever saw her all undressed but her mother, and all that sort of thing." "The affected little prude! and to break up my nap, too!" said Mrs. Markham. "I'll teach her--come along, Timmins." True enough; there stood Rose in the corner, as Timmins had said; her dress half torn off in the scuffle, leaving exposed her beautifully-molded shoulders and back, while with her little hands she clutched the remaining rags closely about her person. With her dilated nostrils, flushed cheeks, and flashing eyes, she made a tableau worth looking at. "Come here," hissed Mrs. Markham, in a tone that made Rose's flesh creep. Rose moved slowly toward her. "Take off those rags--every one of them." "I can not," said Rose; "oh, don't make me; I can not." "Take them off, I say. What! do you mean to resist me?" (as Rose held them more tenaciously about her;) and grasping her tightly by the wrist, she drew her through a long passage-way, down a steep pair of stairs, and pushing her into a dark closet, turned the key on her and strode away. "Obstinate little minx," she said, as she passed Timmins, on her return to her rocking-chair and to her nap. "Hark! Mrs. Markham! Mrs. Markham!--what's that groan? Hadn't I better open the door and peep in?" "That is always the way with you, Timmins: no, of course not. She can affect groaning as well as she can affect delicacy; let her stay there till her spirit is well broke; when I get ready I will let her out myself;" and Mrs. Markham walked away. But Timmins was superstitious, and that groan haunted her, and so she went back to the closet to listen. It was all very still; perhaps it was not Rose, after all; and Timmins breathed easier, and walked a few steps away; and then again, perhaps it was, and Timmins walked back again. It would do no harm to peep, at any rate; the key was in the lock, and Mrs. Markham never would know it. Timmins softly turned it;--she called, "Rose!"