To see her now in the library or on the lawn again, with her white shawl round her, and the usual needlework on her knee, was a pleasant sight to everybody in the house.
The little lady had not only won this place for herself by the sweet and selfless gift which was her natural endowment; she was becoming the practical helper of everybody, of Mrs.Mawson in the house, of old Fenn in the garden, even of Buntingford himself, who was gradually falling into the habit of letting her copy important letters for him, and keep some order in the library.

She was not in the least clever or accomplished; but her small fingers seemed to have magic in them; and her good will was inexhaustible.
Helena had grown amazingly fond of her.

She appealed to something maternal and protecting in the girl's strong nature.

Since her mother's death, there had been a big streak of loneliness in Helena's heart, though she would have suffered tortures rather than confess it; and little Lucy Friend's companionship filled a void.

She must needs respect Lucy's conscience, Lucy's instincts had more than once shamed her own.
"What are you going to wear to-night ?" said Mrs.Friend, softly smoothing back the brown hair from the girl's hot brow.
"Pale green and apple-blossom." Lucy Friend smiled, as though already she had a vision of the full-dress result.
"That'll be delicious," she said, with enthusiasm.
"Lucy!--am I good-looking ?" The girl spoke half wistfully, half defiantly, her eyes fixed on Lucy.
Mrs.Friend laughed.
"I asked that question before I had seen you." "Of whom ?" said Helena eagerly.