her June knew straightway she had a friend and she picked up her
bundle and followed upstairs--the first real stairs she had ever
seen--and into a room on the floor of which was a rag carpet.
There was a bed in one corner with a white counterpane and a
washstand with a bowl and pitcher, which, too, she had never seen
before.

"Make yourself at home right now," said the Widow Crane, pulling
open a drawer under a big looking-glass--"and put your things
here. That's your bed," and out she went.

How clean it was! There were some flowers in a glass vase on the
mantel. There were white curtains at the big window and a bed to
herself--her own bed. She went over to the window. There was a
steep bank, lined with rhododendrons, right under it. There was a
mill-dam below and down the stream she could hear the creaking of
a water-wheel, and she could see it dripping and shining in the
sun--a gristmill! She thought of Uncle Billy and ole Hon, and in
spite of a little pang of home-sickness she felt no loneliness at
all.

"I KNEW she would be pretty," said Miss Anne at the gate outside.

"I TOLD you she was pretty," said Hale.

"But not so pretty as THAT," said Miss Anne. "We will be great
friends."

"I hope so--for her sake," said Hale.