But at thirteen and a half a girl ought to be earning money for
her parents. Bless you! She knew what a pawnshop was, her father being
often out of a job owing to potter's asthma; and she had some knowledge
of cookery, and was in particular very good at boiling potatoes. To take
her would be a real kindness on the part of Mrs. Lessways, for the
'place' was not merely an easy place, it was a 'good' place. Supposing
that Mrs. Lessways refused to have her,--well, Florrie might go on to a
'potbank' and come to harm, or she might engage herself with
tradespeople, where notoriously the work was never finished, or she
might even be forced into a public-house. Her aunt knew that they wanted
a servant at the "Queen Adelaide," where the wages would be pretty high.
But no! No niece of hers should ever go into service at a public-house
if she could help it! What with hot rum and coffee to be ready for
customers at half-past five of a morning, and cleaning up at nights
after closing, a poor girl would never see her bed! Whereas at Mrs.
Lessways'...! So Mrs. Lessways took Florrie in order to save her from
slavery.

The slim child was pretty, with graceful and eager movements, and
certainly a rapid comprehension. Her grey eyes sparkled, and her brown
hair was coquettishly tied up, rather in the manner of a horse's tail on
May Day. She had arrived all by herself in the morning, with a tiny
bundle, and she made a remarkably neat appearance--if you did not look
at her boots, which had evidently been somebody else's a long time
before. Hilda had been clearly aware of a feeling of pleasure at the
prospect of this young girl's presence in the house.

Hilda now saw her in another aspect. She wore a large foul apron of
sacking, which made her elegant body quite shapeless, and she was
kneeling on the red-and-black tiled floor of the kitchen, with her
enormous cracked boots sticking out behind her. At one side of her was a
pail full of steaming brown water, and in her red coarse little hands,
which did not seem to belong to those gracile arms, she held a dripping
clout. In front of her, on a half-dried space of clean, shining floor,
stood Mrs. Lessways, her head wrapped in a flannel petticoat. Nearer to
the child stretched a small semi-circle of liquid mud; to the rear was
the untouched dirty floor. Florrie was looking up at her mistress with
respectful, strained attention. She could not proceed with her work
because Mrs. Lessways had chosen