The great bell of the cathedral was just tolling the _Angelus_, when
May, laying her hand softly on Helen, awoke her.

"Rise, dear Helen; it is six o'clock."

"It is not daylight yet, and I shan't rise, I assure you," she said, in
a fretful tone.

"Yes you will, I am sure. Uncle Stillinghast will be quite displeased
if you do not. He said yesterday morning that you should rise when I
do, and lo! you have slept an hour later. Come! it is hard I know to
get up in the cold, but you'll soon become accustomed to it."

"I declare, May, you are as bad as your uncle. Heavens! what a pair to
live with. One as exacting as a Jew, the other obedient as a saint,
and obstinate as a mule! I never was so persecuted in my life!"
exclaimed Helen, rising very unwillingly.

"That is right," said May, laughing, "be brisk now, for there is a
great deal to do."

"What is it, May? Are you going to build a house before breakfast?"

"Come and see, and I promise you a nice time. The fire is already made
in the kitchen-stove. Hurry down, I want you to grind the coffee."

"Grind the coffee! What is that?" asked Helen, with amazement.

"I will show you. Really, I would not ask you, only I have rolls to