She had a blue dress that he always liked, and she'd sit here and sing, and the sun coming in on her through her own window there, as she always called it: like a pretty picture she was, our Faith." "Oh!" cried Hilda, taking the brown, motherly hand in both of hers, "I am so very, very sorry, dear Nurse Lucy! I did not know! I will never sit here again.

I thought--" But she was ashamed to say what she had thought,--that this chair and table had been set for her to tempt her to sit down "in a kitchen!" She could hear herself say it as she had said it last night, with a world of scornful emphasis.

How long it seemed since last night; how much older she had grown! And yet--and yet somehow she felt a great deal younger.
All this passed through her mind in a moment; but Nurse Lucy was petting her, and saying: "Nay, dearie; nay, child! This is just where I want you to sit.

'Twill be a real help to Farmer, once he is used to it.

Hark! I hear him coming now.