What a day it was to Kitty! One improvement led to another, and as things began to grow clean in her hands, she grew wonderfully interested, and only stopped at noon to warm her father's gruel.
It was Saturday, and Tip had gone to pile wood for Mr.Bailey.He was to get his dinner and a grammar for his pay.

He had wanted a grammar all winter, so he worked with a will; and Kitty saw neither him nor her mother through all the busy day.

The early sun had set long before.

Kitty thought he certainly would not know that room the next morning, it was all so changed.

The paper curtain was mended and tacked up in its place; the old lounge cover was mended and fastened on smoothly; the mantelpiece shone and glowed in the firelight; the two shiny candlesticks, and beside them the little box of matches, were all that remained there of the rubbish of the morning; the floor was just as smooth and clean as soap and ashes, with plenty of hot water and an old broom, could make it; hoods and shawls and aprons and old shoes had all disappeared,--nothing was lying around: the table was drawn out, the clean, smooth plates arranged so as to hide the soiled spots on the tablecloth, the pudding was bubbling away in the astonished kettle, and Kitty's joy had been complete, when, only a few minutes before, after a great deal of stamping and pounding, she had opened the door to Howard Minturn, who said,-- "Mother sent you some milk for your supper .-- Where's Tip ?--_Isn't_ it cold, though ?--There'll be prime skating to-night .-- Give me the pitcher right away, please." All this in one breath.
Now they would have beautiful fresh milk for supper; and if there was anything which Tip liked, it was pudding and milk.
So Kitty set the old arm-chair in the warmest corner for her mother, fastened her father's door wide open, so that he could see the new room, then stirred her pudding, and watched and waited.