It was burnt down to a few coals; and the kettle was boiling.
Daisy could not leave it so.

She fetched more wood and put in, with a little more kindling; and then, leaving it all right, she was going to bid Molly good-bye, when she saw that the poor cripple's head had sunk down on her arms.

She looked in that position so forlorn, so lonely and miserable, that Daisy's heart misgave her.

She drew near.
"Molly--" said her sweet little voice, "would you like your tea now?
the water is boiling." Molly signified that she would.
"Would you like to have me make it ?" said Daisy doubtfully, quite afraid of venturing too far or too fast.

But she need not have been afraid.
Molly only pointed with her finger to a wall cupboard and said as before,--"In there." The way was clear for Daisy, time or no time.