"Poor little thing," she said compassionately, when the housemaid came down to put away her brushes, "she don't look strong. I wonder master chose such a child."
"How old is she, then?"
"She looks fifteen, but she's that small and thin. She limps, and one of her shoulders is all crooked, but I never see a prettier face in my life. Her eyes is soft and large, and altogether——"
But Jane could not stay to hear, for the busy doctor must have everything punctual, so cook finished her sentence to herself.
When Cherry came back with the pail and broom, cook went to inspect her work in a very kindly spirit.
"It don't look quite clear, my dear, but as your mother says, you'll improve if you take pains. You've done it very well considering. Hasn't she, Jane? Come and see."
This was to give Jane, who was passing through the hall at the moment, an opportunity of agreeing with cook's verdict on Cherry's eyes.
"I haven't a mother, please," answered Cherry, timidly.
"Oh, I thought you said mother, my dear; I beg your pardon."
Cherry turned homewards, and the two comfortable servants went down-stairs again.