She made several rather depreciatory observations, and insisted strongly that the new servant should only be taken “on trial,” with no obligation to keep her a day longer than they wished.  Her feeling on the matter communicated itself to Johanna, who closed the negotiation with Mrs. Hand, by saying.

“Well, let us hope your daughter will suit us.  We will give her a fair chance at all events.”

“Which is all I can ax for, Miss Leaf.  Her bean’t much to look at, but her’s willin’ sharp, and her’s never told me a lie in her life.  Courtesy to thy missis, and say thee’lt do thy best, Lizabeth.”

Pulled forward Elizabeth did courtesy, but she never offered to speak.  And Miss Leaf, feeling that for all parties the interview had better be shortened, rose from her chair.

Mrs. Hand took the hint and departed, saying only, “Good-by, Lizabeth,” with a nod, half-encouraging, half-admonitory, which Elizabeth silently returned.  That was all the parting between mother and daughter; they neither kissed nor shook hands, which undemonstrative farewell somewhat surprised Hilary.

Now, Miss Hilary Leaf had all this while gone on toasting.  Luckily for her bread the fire was low and black; meantime, from behind her long drooping curls (which Johanna would not let her “turn up,” though she was twenty), she was making her observations on the new servant.  It might be that, possessing more head than the one and more heart than the other, Hilary was gifted with deeper perception of character than either of her sisters, but certainly her expression, as she watched Elizabeth, was rather amused and kindly that dissatisfied.

“Now, girl, take off your bonnet,” said Selina, to whom Johanna had silently appealed in her perplexity as to the next proceeding with regard to the new member of the household.

Elizabeth obeyed, and then stood, irresolute, awkward, and wretched to the last degree, at the furthest end of the house-place.

“Shall I show you where to hang up your things?” said Hilary, speaking for the first time; and at the new voice, so quick, cheerful, and pleasant, Elizabeth visibly started.

Miss Hilary rose from her knees, crossed the kitchen, took from the girl’s unresisting hands the old black bonnet and shawl, and hung them up carefully on a nail behind the great eight-day clock.  It was a simple action, done quite without intention, and accepted without acknowledgment, except one quick glance of that keen, yet soft grey eye; but years and years after Elizabeth reminded Hilary of it.