The house, poor as it was, gave the impression of belonging to "real ladies;" ladies who thought no manner of work beneath them, and who, whatever they had to do, took the pains to do it as well as possible.
Mrs.Hand's roughly-brought-up daughter had never been in such a house before, and her examination of every new corner of it seemed quite a revelation.

Her own little sleeping nook was fully as tidy and comfortable as the rest, which fact was not lost upon Elizabeth.
That bright look of mingled softness and intelligence--the only thing which beautified her rugged face--came into the girl's eyes as she "turned down" the truckle-bed, and felt the warm blankets and sheets, new and rather coarse, but neatly sewed.
"Her's made 'em hersel', I reckon.

La!" Which of her mistresses the "her" referred to remained unspecified; but Elizabeth, spurred to action by some new idea, went briskly back into the bedrooms, and looked about to see if there was any thing she could find to do.

At last, with a sudden inspiration, she peered into a wash-stand, and found there an empty ewer.

Taking it in one hand and the candle in the other, she ran down stairs.
Fatal activity! Hilary's pet cat, startled from sleep on the kitchen hearth, at the same instant ran wildly up stairs; there was a start--a stumble--and then down came the candle, the ewer, Elizabeth, and all.
It was an awful crash.