"She can just cool 'er 'eels on the doorstep till she gets courage to knock.

'Twull do 'er good." But she waited so long that he began to grow uneasy.

After that first glance she had turned her back on the door as if she repented coming, and, satchel in hand, stood hesitating on the top step ready for flight.
At least that is the way Hawkins interpreted her attitude.

He could not see her face.
It was a plain little face, sunburned as a gypsy's, with a generous sprinkling of freckles on her inquisitive nose.

But it was a lovable face, happy and eager, with a sweet mouth and alert gray eyes that seemed to see to the bottom of everything.