Meg of the Heather by Evelyn R. Garratt

MEG awoke the next morning to the sound of dripping rain. She had / been dreaming of Friars Court, and had thought she was in the garden / listening to the birds. When she awoke she was listening to the rain. / Instead of the sun streaming in, making the white wall gleam and shine, / the dirty white curtains before her window were blowing on to her bed, / and she could see nothing but grey wherever she looked.

A church clock chimed seven, but she was in no hurry to rise although / she heard the little widow bustling about in the adjoining room which / served for a parlour and kitchen, and last night for a bedroom also, / for herself and her boy.