CHAPTER III.
THE PRISONER OF DESPAIR.
As she followed in angry silence, Hilda had a glimpse through a half-open door of a cosey sitting-room; while another door, standing fully open at the other end of the little hall, showed, by a blaze of scarlet tiger-lilies and yellow marigolds, where the garden lay.

And now the farmer opened a door and set down the trunk with a heavy thump; and Dame Hartley, taking the girl's hand, led her forward, saying: "Here, my dear, here is your own little room,--the same that your dear mamma slept in when she was here! And I hope you'll be happy in it, Hilda dear, and get all the good we wish for you while you're here!" Hilda bowed slightly, feeling unable to speak; and the good woman continued: "You must be hungry as well as tired, travelling since morning.

It's near our dinner-time.

Or shall I bring ye up something now,--a cup o' tea and a cooky, eh?
Or would you like solid victuals better ?" "Thank you!" said Hilda.

"I am not at all hungry; I could not possibly eat anything.