ere dark, heavy rafters, relieved by
the gleam of yellow "crook-neck" squashes, bunches of golden corn, and
long festoons of dried apples. In one window stood the good dame's
rocking-chair, with its gay patchwork cushion; and her Bible,
spectacles, and work-basket lay on the window-seat beside it. In
another was a huge leather arm-chair, which Hilda rightly supposed to be
the farmer's, and a wonderful piece of furniture, half desk, half chest
of drawers, with twisted legs and cupboards and pigeon-holes and tiny
drawers, and I don't know what else. The third window Hilda thought was
the prettiest of all. It faced the west, and the full glory of sunset
was now pouring through the clustering vines which partly shaded it. The
sash was open, and a white rose was leaning in and nodding in a friendly
way, as if greeting the new-comer. A low chair and a little work-table,
both of quaint and graceful fashion, stood in the recess; and on the
window-seat stood some flowering-plants in pretty blue and white pots.

"I suppose _I_ am expected to sit there!" said Hilda to herself. "As if
I should sit down in a kitchen!" But all the while she knew in her heart
of hearts that this was one of the most attractive rooms she had ever
seen, and that that particular corner was pretty enough and picturesque
enough for a queen to sit in. You are not to think that she saw all
these things at the first glance; far from it. There was something else
in the room which claimed the immediate attention of our heroine, and
that was a square oak table, shining like a mirror, and covered with
good things,--cold chicken, eggs and bacon, golden butter and honey, a
great brown loaf on a wonderful carved wooden platter, delicate rolls
piled high on a shallow blue dish, and a portly glass jug filled with
rich, creamy milk. Here was a pleasant sight for a hungry heroine of
fifteen! But alas! at the head of this inviting table sat Farmer
Hartley, the "odious savage," in his rough homespun coat, with his hair
still very far from smooth (though indeed he had brushed it, and the
broad, horny hands were scrupulously clean). With a slight shudder Hilda
took the seat which Dame Hartley offered her.

"Well, Huldy," said the farmer, looking up from his eggs and bacon with
a cheery smile, "here ye be, eh? Rested after yer journey, be ye?"

"Yes, thank you!" said Hilda, coldly.

"Have some chick'n!" he continued, putting nearly half a chicken on her
plate. "An' a leetl