The little brown tea-pot was on the red tiles by the hearth, and the firelight blinked on the tea-cups.
"Mrs.Kane," said Hetty, "will you let me call you mammy ?" "Will I ?" said Mrs.Kane.

"To be sure I will, darling, and glad to hear you.

But wouldn't mother be a prettier word in your mouth ?" "Phyllis calls Mrs.Enderby mother," said Hetty, "and it sounds cold.
Mammy will be a little word of our own." "And when you go back to the Hall you will sometimes come to see your old mammy ?" "I think I am going to ask you to let me stay here always," said Hetty.
"Nay, dear, that wouldn't be right.

You've got to get educated and grow up a lady." "I could go to the village school," said Hetty; "I'm not clever at books, and they could teach me there all I want to learn.

When I grow up I might be the village teacher.