Daisy was late.

She must go soon, if she did not see Molly; and to go without seeing her was no part of Daisy's plan.

Perhaps Molly was sick.

At any rate, the child's footsteps paused at the door of the poor little house, and her fingers knocked.

She had never been inside of it yet, and what she saw of the outside was not in the least inviting.
The little windows, lined with paper curtains to keep out sunlight and curious eyes, looked dismal; the weatherboards were unpainted; the little porch broken.