nge it all was! What should she do now, to prove the
new Hilda and try her strength? Something must be done at once; the time
for folded hands and listless revery was gone by.

"Shall I--may I help you to get breakfast?" she asked aloud, rather
timidly.

"Breakfast? Bless you, honey, we had breakfast two hours ago. We farmers
are early birds, you know. But you can lay a plate and napkin for
yourself, if you like, while I drop a couple of fresh eggs and toast a
bit of bacon for you. Do you like bacon, then?"

Rather disappointed at the failure of her first attempt to be useful,
Hilda laid the snowy napkin on the shining table, and chose a pretty
blue and white plate from the well-stocked shelves of the dresser.

"And now open that cupboard, my lamb," said her hostess, "and you'll
find the loaf, and a piece of honeycomb, and some raspberries. I'll
bring a pat of butter and some milk from the dairy, where it's all cool
for you."

"Raspberries!" cried Hilda. "Oh, how delightful! Why, the dew is still
on them, Nurse Lucy! And how pretty they look, with the cool green
leaves round them!"

"Ay!" said the good woman, "Jacob brought them in not ten minutes ago.
He thought you would like them fresh from the bushes."

Hilda's cheek rivalled the raspberries in bloom as she bent over them to
inhale their fragrance. The farmer had picked these himself for
her,--had probably left his work to do so; and she had called him an
odious old savage, and an unkempt monster, and--oh dear! decidedly, the
old Hilda was a very disagreeable girl. But here were the eggs, each
blushing behind its veil of white, and here was the milk, and a little
firm nugget in a green leaf, which was too beautiful to be butter, and
yet too good to be anything else. And the new Hilda might eat her
breakfast with a thankful heart, and did so. The white rose nodded to
her from the west window much more cordially than it had done the night
before. It even brought out a little new bud to take a peep at the girl
who now smiled, instead of scowling across the room. The vines rustled
and shook, and two bright black eyes peeped between the leaves.
"Tweet!" said the robin, ruffling his scarlet waistcoat a little. "When
you have quite finished your worms, you may come out, and I will show
you the garden. There are cherries!" and away he flew, while Hilda
laughed and clapped her hands, for she had understood every word.

"May I go out into the garden?" she asked, when