CHAPTER II.
UNDER THE HORSES' FEET.
Mrs.Kane's cottage stood on a pretty bend of one of the village roads, and belonged to an irregular cluster of little houses with red gables and green palings.

It was among the poorest dwellings in Wavertree, but was neat and clean.

The garden was in good order, and a white climbing rose grew round the door, that sweet old-fashioned rose with its delicious scent which makes the air delightful wherever it blows.
The cottage door stood open, and the afternoon sunlight fell across the old red tiles of the kitchen floor.

The tiles were a little broken, and here and there they were sunk and worn; but they were as clean as hands could make them, as Mrs.Kane would have said.

A little window at one side looked down the garden, and across it was a frilled curtain, and on the sill a geranium in full flower.