Nesta felt for a moment as though she were Red Riding Hood, and the wolf were within. She lifted the latch and went in. The first person she saw was a sandy-haired middle-aged woman, with a strong likeness to Mary Hogg. The woman said, “Oh, my!” then she gave a little curtsey, then she said, “Oh, my!” again. Nesta stood and stared at her. A small boy who had been lying face downward on the floor, started to his feet, thrust his hands into his trouser pockets, and stared also. Another boy, who had been bending over a book, and who was a little older, flung the book on the floor, and added to the group of starers.
“Mary Hogg sent me,” said Nesta.
She used the words wondering if they would be a talisman, the “open sesame” which her hungry soul desired. They certainly had an immediate effect, but not the effect she expected. Mrs Hogg darted forward, dusted a chair, and said:
“Honoured Miss, be seated.”
Nesta dropped into the chair, for she was really very tired.
“If you are one of the young ladies from the Castle, I’m sorry I ain’t got all the sewing done yet, but I will to-morrow.”
“No,” said Nesta, “it isn’t that. I’m not one of the young ladies from the Castle; I’m just a girl, a stranger, and I want a bed for the night. I travelled in the same train with your daughter, Mary Hogg, and she sent me on here. She said you would give me a bed, and that you’d expect me to pay. I can pay you. I have got eight and sixpence. I hope you won’t charge me a great deal, for that is all the money I have in the wide world. But I can pay you; will you give me a bed?”
Now this was most exciting to Mrs Hogg. It was still more exciting to the two boys, whose names were Ben and Dan. They stood now side by side, each with his hands in his pockets, and his glowing eyes fixed on Nesta’s face. Mrs Hogg stood silent; she was considering deeply.
“There’s but two rooms,” she said, at last. “This room, and the bedroom beyond; but there’s the scullery.”
“I could sleep anywhere,” said Nesta, who was terrified at the thought of being thrust out of this humble habitation.