Her tiny pink calico frock was clean and neat, and her shoes not very much broken, though covered with dust.

Altogether Hetty had the look of a child who was kindly cared for, though she had neither father nor mother in the world.
Two or three great strong horses, gray and bay, with thick manes and tails, came clattering up to the door of the forge, a man astride on one of them.

Hetty knew the horses, which belonged to Wavertree Hall, and were accustomed to draw the long carts which brought the felled trees out of the woods to the yard at the back of the Hall.

Hetty once had thought that the trees were going to be planted again in Mrs.Enderby's drawing-room, and had asked why the pretty green leaves had all been taken off.

She was four years old now, however, and she knew that the trees were to be chopped up for firewood.