"A beggar—we don't want beggars here," she said shortly.
"Please," entreated Lettie, "the little lady said—"
"Are you the child Miss Josie told to come for some food?"
Lettie hardly knew what to say; and at that moment a voice called down the stairs—
"Harrison, if it is my poor little girl, she is to wait in the hall, and I'll be down in a few minutes. Give her that basket of things on the sideboard, and tell her she may eat what she likes, and take the rest home."
Every word of the message reached Lettie. "Well," said the tall servant, "are you the child?"
"Please, she's sent me," whispered Lettie. "She's ill, and can't walk."
"Fever?" asked the servant, drawing back.
"No—starvin'," said Lettie.
"Oh!" said the servant, as if that were a matter of secondary importance. "Well, come in and take the basket, and eat what you like, till Miss Josie comes down."