of having someone cheerful to speak to; and when she remembered that
but for this little stray waif she would have been alone now, and her
hen-house robbed, her heart was very full of gratitude.

"Miss Rosamund will blame me when she hears about it," she said,
presently. "She was always telling me I ought to have a strong lock
on the hen-house door. She said it was tempting folk to be
dishonest,--not to have anything but just the latch, and me known to
keep good fowls always. 'Twas Miss Rose that gave them to me," she
explained. "I mean, she gave me a sitting of her prize eggs, and
every one hatched out."

"Oh my!" exclaimed Huldah, who had filled the kettle, and was now
waiting for it to boil. She was immensely interested in all she saw
and heard, and there seemed so much to see and hear in this new life
into which she had suddenly found her way. "Is Miss Rose a--a lady?"
She only put the question in the hope of leading Mrs. Perry on to
talk more.

"A lady! I should think she was, indeed! One of the best that ever
lived! 'Twould be a good thing for this world if there were more
like her."

Huldah listened intently. She wondered if she should ever see this
wonderful Miss Rose, and find out what it was that made Mrs. Perry
speak so warmly about her. She thought it must be fine to be thought
much of by anybody so superior as Mrs. Perry.

"I think you are the kindest lady in the world," she said,
impulsively, looking up at her hostess with shy, grateful eyes.
"Would Miss Rose have taken me and Dick in, if we had come to her
house like we did to yours?"

"That she would!" declared Mrs. Perry, emphatically, "and 'twas the
thought of what she would do that made me do it."

"I'd love to see Miss Rose," said Huldah, eagerly. "I wonder if I
ever shall!" but the kettle boiled at that moment, and Mrs. Perry's
mind was taken up with the making of the tea.

While they sat on each side of the hearth, drinking their tea and
eating their crusts of bread, she wished Miss Rose could know about
this little waif, who seemed really not a bad little waif, but honest
and very thoughtful and kind. She wanted her advice as to what to do
about her. Already her feelings towards the child had changed so
much that she did not like to think of sending her away in the
morning, to wander on alone again, with no home, no money or food,
and no protection but Dick.

Dick might be killed, or stolen, and then the poor little sou