Miss Clegg was getting her own favorite tea. This always consisted of itself, toast, and a slice of bacon; and she apparently took as much pleasure in the preparation of the meal as if it were not the ten thousandth of its kind which she had cooked and eaten. As she hustled and bustled here and there, her manner seemed even more sprightly than usual; and it was only occasionally, when her glance fell upon the light shining across from her friend’s kitchen window opposite, that her cheerfulness knew any diminution. But there seemed to be some sad influence in the effect of the rays of Mrs. Lathrop’s lamp on this particular night; and even if its effect on Susan was merely transitory, it was not the less marked each time that it occurred.