She assisted the poor prisoner with her toilet, combed out and curled
the beautiful, abundant hair, and made her as pretty as a picture.
"She's lost her rosy cheeks, and is failed away to nothing," mused the
nurse. "Only for that, she'd be the loveliest thing the sun shines on."
"And now you're fixed, my pretty dear," said Mrs. Sharpe, "I'll go down
and get your breakfast. Nobody ever feels right in the morning on an
empty stomach."
Down in the kitchen, Mrs. Sharpe found things in a lively state of
preparation--coffee boiling, steak broiling, toast making, and muffins
baking. Old Sally, in a state threatening spontaneous combustion, bent
over the fire, and Mrs. Oleander, in her rocking-chair, superintended.
"Are you only getting up now?" asked the doctor's mother, suspiciously.
"Been up these two hours, ma'am," responded Mrs. Sharpe. "I tidied up
myself and my room, and then tidied up Miss Dane and her'n. I came down
to fetch up her breakfast."
"It's all ready," said Sally. "Fetch along your tray."
So Susan Sharpe fetched along her tray, and received a bountiful supply
of coffee and toast, and steak and muffins.
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