The girls
looked after him--that place was not dirty, merely poor and bare.
Presently he called to them:
"Come in, girls," and Dorothy felt she could hardly move--she was so
anxious and expectant.
A woman, with a kind face, greeted them sadly, but with that
unmistakable air of one whom poverty cannot drag down from self-respect.
"Yes, I have a child with me," she answered nervously, "but I cannot
allow you to see her."
Then Squire Travers produced his credentials.
"You need not fear us," he told her kindly. "We have the best of news
for little Nellie Burlock, and we are only too anxious to make her
acquainted with it."
"But we have been disappointed so often," objected the woman, "and that
man Anderson--"
"You need not think of him now," said Squire Travers. "We have just left
him in the hands of the sheriff. This little girl," placing his hand on
Dorothy, "has brought it all about. She showed the child's father how to
die happily--made it possible for him to see the hope beyond, and then
she and her good father have worked untiringly to find the child. Cannot
we see her now?"
[Illustration: Instantly Dorothy had her arms around the little girl]
The woman took Dorothy's hands, and looked straight into her eyes. Then,
without a word, she turned and opened a narrow door, that seemed to run
under a stairway.
Pages:
176
177
178
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189
190
191
192
193
194
195
196
197
198
199
200