Two square, four-paned windows were as yet uncurtained, except that Nature, with the kindness of a fairy helper, had supplied the lack of deft fingers and veiled the glass with such devices of the frost as resembled miniature landscapes of distant alp and nearer minaret.

The large, square cooking-stove smoked a little.

Between the stove and the other door stood the table, which held the dishes at which worked the neat, quick mother and her rather untidy and idle daughters.
"Really, Blue and Red!" The words were jerked out to conceal a sigh which had risen involuntarily.

"This is disgraceful." Her sharp brown eyes fell on the pile of dishes she had washed, which the two girls, who were both drying them, failed to diminish as fast as she increased it.
"Our cloths are wet," said Blue, looking round the ceiling vaguely, as if a dry dish-towel might be lying somewhere on a rafter.
"I declare--" the mother began, tapping her foot.

But what she was going to declare was never known, for just then a knock at the outer door diverted their attention.
However commonplace may be the moment after a door is opened, the moment before the opening is apt to be full of interest, for one can never know but that some cause of delightful excitement is on the other side.
It was Blue who opened the door.