With the door wide open the yard seemed a part of the kitchen.

It was a pleasant place.

The birch tree flicked its shadow as far as the much-worn wooden doorstep.
"I was very sorry to hear about last night, Miss Sophia," said Eliza, sincerely, meaning that she was sorry on Winifred's account more immediately.
"Yes," said Sophia, acknowledging that there was reason for such sympathy.
"Is that Principal Trenholme talking ?" asked Eliza.

The talk in the sitting-room came through the loose door, and a doubt suddenly occurred to her.
"No; it's his brother," said Sophia.
"The voices are alike." "Yes; but the two men don't seem to be much alike." "I didn't know he had a brother." "Didn't you?
He has just come." Sophia was taking tea-cakes from the oven.

Eliza leaned her head against the wall; she felt warm and oppressed.