She felt that this man, whoever he was, was not against her.

He was old, and he had a kind look.
He still thought she meant she was not the modiste, just her errand-girl.
Her quaint dress and the long braid down her back made her look like a child.
"I'll tell her you've come.

Be seated," said the butler, and gave her a chair in the dim hall just opposite the parlor door, where she had a glimpse of elegance such as she had never dreamed existed.

She tried to think how it must be to live in such a room and walk on velvet.

The carpet was deep and rich.