The Three Orphans

This is a story where I, Anya Rafa, am attempting to write old-fashioned.  If it sounds weird, don't hesitate to let me know. 

A girl and her friends stood at the door, the door that would change their lives forever.

Hazel, Charlotte, and Hilary were their names. They wore battered clothing and had tangled hair. Their fingernails were filled with dirt.
"Should....should we open it?" Charlotte stuttered to no one in particular.
"I do NOT know," Hilary managed.
"Come on guys," Hazel chuckled nervously. "Once we get inside, they'll give us hot baths nd new clothes, serve us potato pie and pudding, and we'll live like princesses!"
"I don't WANT to be a princess," Hilary pulled a face.
"I wouldn't mind," Charlotte said thoughtfully.
"Okay," Hazel muttered, ignoring the other girls. "Here goes."
Hazel dusted her battered pants, ran her fingers through her hair, and placed her filthy hand on the door knob.
She took a deep breath and opened the door.
"Wait!" Charlotte shrieked. "You're supposed to KNOCK! God knows WHAT will happen to u--"
Hilary covered her mouth. "Quiet!" she hissed. She pulled the door shut. "First we need to get clean."
Charlotte spotted a clay birdbath nearby and washed the three girls washed their faces.
As they did so, their hearts ached with jealousy. How unfair it was that BIRDS were cleaner than them!
After that, Hazel found a small, thin, stick, and the girls took turns cleaning their nails as best as they could.
Finally, Hilary licked her lips and knocked. After a brief moment,  the door opened to reveal a grumpy woman, wearing a fine satin dress and blue silk scarf.
"Can I help you?" she sniffed in a posh voice.
"Uh," Hilary stepped forward. "Can we, er, I mean, may, uh, may we...h-have a meal?"
"Humph!" the lady rolled her eyes. "Just wipe your feet."
The girls, guessing this was their invitation, wiped their filthy feet on a woven green mat and stepped inside.
The wide room contained an impressive fluffy white rug,  a brick fire place, and a fine antique grandfather clock.
"Maid?" a soft voice called. "Who is it?"
"Just some street-girls wanting supper," the lady replied.
The girls, shocked that the lady they'd encountered was a maid, suddenly felt shy and stupid.
Suddenly, across a narrow hall, a beautiful lady strode into the room. Her dress was pure silk, with a floral bodice and winged sleeves. On her pale neck, a gold chain held a diamond in place.
"Oh, my!" the lady said smiling kindly. "My name is Victoria Fields. That lady beside you, is my maid, Andrea Morsoe. Who are you?"
Charlotte opened her mouth to speak, but Hazel, as the leader of the gang, stepped forward and cleared her throat.
"My name is Hazel Williams, and these are my friends; Hilary Jones and Charlotte Smith." She smiled nervously.
"Well," Victoria said. "I have been looking for some workers..." she paused. "Maid?"
"Yes, ma'am?" Andrea replied.
"Bring these girls some of Dorothy's old clothes," Victoria smiled.
To be continued.....