All here seemed so different, so safe and peaceful, and far away from her old unhappy life.
The sun was shining radiantly, drying up the dew on the flowers, and making the red-tiled path glow warmly; it seemed to fill the garden, the cottage, and all Huldah's world with cheerfulness.

By the time she had finished sweeping, the kettle was singing, so Huldah got the teapot and warmed it.

She even warmed the cup and saucer too, in her anxiety that Mrs.Perry should have her tea as hot as possible.
Then she cut a slice of bread as neatly as she could and toasted it.
Dick was lying out in the sun, gnawing at the remains of his ham-bone, as happy as a dog could be.

Huldah glanced out at him every now and then while she was toasting the bread, and tried to realise that they were the same two who only yesterday morning were thrashed so unmercifully--she, for giving Dick some bread and butter, and Dick for eating it, after which had followed that dreadful scene when her uncle Tom had kicked poor old helpless Charlie so cruelly, partly because the poor old horse moved slowly, but chiefly because he knew that it would hurt Huldah more than any beating or starving of herself could.
It hurt her so greatly that she felt she could not bear it any longer, and then and there made up her mind to run away.

Half of Charlie's kicks and blows were given him, she knew, because they hurt and angered her.