“We will go in here,” Cora said kindly, as she opened from the kitchen a door that led into a room used for special occasions, when many dishes were served. “Then I can have a chance to talk with you. Perhaps you are hungry?” she added.
The woman looked about her as if dazed. Cora saw that she had a face of rather uncommon type. Her deep-set gray eyes were faded to the very tint of her gray hair, and her cheeks, though sunken, outlined features that indicated refinement. Her clothes were very much worn, but comparatively clean and of good material. She wore no hat, nor other head covering.
“Yes, I am hungry, I think,” the woman said. “But I need not keep you from your friends. If you will just have a cup of tea sent in here to me.”
“Oh, they don’t mind,” Cora said, with a laugh. “My friends can be with me any time.” The other girls had gone to get rid of the grime of the fire, as had the boys.
“Very well,” said the woman. “You are so kind.”
Cora scarcely heard this for she was out in the kitchen giving some orders. She soon returned to the little room, and took a chair opposite her guest.
“How did you come to be in the barn?” she asked.
“I went in–to rest,” answered the woman wearily.
“Of course,” Cora said, as if that were an explanation. “But I won’t ask you to talk any more until you have had your tea. There,” as Nettie placed a tray of refreshment beside her, “let me give you your tea first, then you will feel more like talking.” The tea was poured when Jack entered. He looked at Cora questioningly.
“This woman was out in the storm,” Cora truthfully explained without making a clear statement, “and I insisted that she come in.”