"Oh, dear! How red I am in the face! It's too bad;" and she felt tempted to cry, but she knew that would only make matters worse. So she let down her shining hair, brushed it out, and wound it round her fingers in curls. Then Granny came plodding up stairs.
"I told her you were busy, but that you'd be ready in a few minutes," she explained.
"Why didn't you think to bring up one of my clean dresses?"
"To be sure! which one?"
"The pink calico, I guess. Oh! and the braided white apron."
Down went Granny. Ah! many a step had she taken for these children, weary ones, and yet cheerfully done. Would they ever think of it?
Florence was not long in making herself neat and presentable, but the flushed face still troubled her. She viewed herself critically in the cracked glass, and then ran down, pausing to fan a few moments with the cape of an old sun-bonnet, the nearest thing at hand.
"Do I look decent, Granny?" she said apprehensively.
"To be sure you do, and nice too."
Granny's eyes expressed her admiration.