Then, in the doorway suddenly appeared a girl in a dirty apron.

She was about fourteen years old, had a rosy dark face, a bunch of short black curls, very fine and free, and dark eyes; shy, questioning, a little resentful of the strangers, she disappeared.

In a minute another figure appeared, a small, frail woman, rosy, with great dark brown eyes.
"Oh!" she exclaimed, smiling with a little glow, "you've come, then.

I AM glad to see you." Her voice was intimate and rather sad.
The two women shook hands.
"Now are you sure we're not a bother to you ?" said Mrs.Morel.

"I know what a farming life is." "Oh no! We're only too thankful to see a new face, it's so lost up here." "I suppose so," said Mrs.Morel.
They were taken through into the parlour--a long, low room, with a great bunch of guelder-roses in the fireplace.