She had a little basket-trifle hanging at her side

　　Mr. Wickfield tapped at a door in a  corner of the panelled wall, and a girl  of about  my  own  age came  quickly  out  and kissed  him.   On  her face,  I  saw immediately the placid and sweet expression of the lady whose picture had looked at me  downstairs.  It  seemed to  my imagination  as if  the portrait had grown womanly, and the original remained a child.  Although her face was quite  bright and happy, there  was a tranquillity  about it, and  about her -  a quiet, good, calm spirit - that I never have forgotten; that I shall never forget.  This  was his little housekeeper,  his daughter Agnes,  Mr. Wickfield said.   When I heard how he said it, and saw how he  held her hand, I guessed what the one  motive of his life was.

　　She had a  little basket-trifle hanging  at her side,  with keys in  it; and she looked as staid and as discreet a housekeeper as the old house could have.   She listened to her father as he told  her about me, with a pleasant face;  and when he had  concluded, proposed  to my  aunt that  we should  go upstairs and see my room.  We all went together, she before us: and a glorious old room it was, with more oak beams, and diamond panes; and the broad balustrade going all the way up to it.

　　I cannot call to mind where or when, in my childhood, I had seen a stained glass window in a church.  Nor do I recollect its subject. But I know that when I  saw her turn round, in the grave light of the old staircase, and wait for us, above, I thought of that window; and I associated something of its tranquil  brightness with Agnes Wickfield ever afterwards.

　　My aunt was as happy as I was, in the arrangement made for me; and we went  down to the drawing-room again, well pleased and gratified. As she would not hear  of staying to dinner, lest she should by any chance fail to arrive at home with the grey pony before  dark; and as  I apprehend Mr.  Wickfield knew her  too well to argue any point with her; some lunch was provided for her there, and Agnes  went back to her governess, and Mr. Wickfield to his office.  So we were left to take leave of one another without any restraint.

　　She told me that everything would be arranged for me by Mr. Wickfield, and  that I should want for nothing, and gave me the kindest words and the best advice.

　　'Trot,' said my  aunt in conclusion,  'be a credit  to yourself, to  me, and Mr. Dick, and Heaven be with you!'