Little maid Marigold

The speaker was Mrs. Holcroft, a pale-faced, dark-eyed woman of about thirty-five, with a slight figure, and a somewhat nervous manner. She had been six years a widow, and a snowy cap rested on her brown hair — hair that was streaked with white around her temples. Marigold, her little daughter, aged eleven, was seated at a corner of the square table that stood in the middle of the sitting-room, so engrossed in the story-book she was reading that she failed to grasp the sense of her mothers request, and looked up inquiringly.“What was that you said, mother?” she asked, turning a pair of thoughtful dark eyes upon her mother as she spoke, and carefully marking the place she was reading with a slip of paper before shutting her book, — “Something about the boys wasnt it...FROM THE BOOKS.