"Thank you," Rose said, politely. But she did not feel pretty. She often looked tired and rather pale from long days of heavy house labour. She rose before Mr. Meijer to clear and light the fireplace, clean the cooking range, boil the water, lay the table, clean the porch, and all the other morning chores she hated. And she went to bed after him in case he needed something in the evening. She wished she had lovely soft hands, but instead her hands were rough and there was callus on her palms and fingers. The stress and anxiety did nothing for her skin either. It was a miracle any man had shown interest in her, Rose believed. "Where do you stay?" she changed the subject.