When she saw Miss Carew standing on the doorstep, she looked up with
a bright smile of welcome. "Please to walk in, miss," she said,
shyly. She had hoped to have had the kitchen washed and made quite
neat before the visitor arrived, but nothing could lessen her
pleasure at seeing Miss Rose.

Without her white apron she looked browner than ever, and Miss Rose
felt as she looked at her a great desire to dress her in pretty,
clean, dainty things, a blue, or pink, or green cotton frock, with
big white apron and white collar. She said nothing, though, but,
stepping delicately over the clean floor, made her way up the stairs
alone to visit the invalid.

Huldah had washed the kitchen and the tiled path to the gate, and
shaken the mats, and dusted the chairs and mantelpiece, and was
sitting down to rest her hot and weary little body, before Miss Rose
came down again. When she heard the footsteps on the stairs she
started up at once.

"Huldah, you are a veritable little brownie," said Miss Rose, "not
only in appearance, but in everything."

Huldah smiled, but looked puzzled; then she put her hands up to her
cheeks. "My hands is brown," she laughed, "but my face feels like
fire."

"You should not work so hard while the heat is so great. In spite of
your red cheeks, you are a real brownie. Do you know what a brownie
is?"