as she drew near the garret stairs, and trod softly that she might not
be heard, but as she was passing the mysterious door, a voice entirely
different in its tone from the one assumed towards Mrs. Grundy, called
out, "Come here, little dear, and see your Aunty."

Mary's circle of acquaintances was quite as large as she cared to have
it, and quickening her steps, she was soon in the kitchen, where she
found several old ladies still lingering over cups of very weak and
very red looking tea. As she entered the room they all suspended their
operations, and looking hard at her, asked if she were the little
English girl. On being told that she was, three of them returned to
their cups, while one shook her head, saying. "Poor child, I pity
you."

Mary had heard that remark many times, but she knew that the words now
conveyed other meaning than what referred to her face or teeth.

"Where can I find Mrs. Grundy?" she at last ventured to ask.

"Where can you find who?" asked a spiteful looking woman. "Did she
tell you to call her so?"

"She told me that was her name,--yes, ma'am," said Mary.

"Well, _Mrs._ Grundy is in the but'ry," indicating with her elbow the
direction.

Mary had no trouble in finding "the but'ry," but on trying the door,
she found it fastened inside. In answer to her gentle knock a harsh
voice replied, "Who's there?"