And yet, when she was discharged, an awful sense of loneliness came over Dilsey Quinn. The nurse gave her a dollar, and an address to which she was to apply in case of any misfortune.
“You’ve been so good,” Dil said, with swimming eyes. “An’ I’ll promise if I don’t get no place.”
And now she must find John Travis. He would surely know if Bess could get to heaven in any strange way, alone in the night. And if she was there, then Dil must go straightway. She could not even lose a day.
The world looked curious to her this April day. There were golden quivers in the sunshine, and a laughing blueness in the sky. And oh, such a lovely, fragrant air! Dil felt as if she could skip for very joy.
She found her way to the square, and sat down on the olden seat. Already some flowers were out, and the grass was green. The “cop” came around presently, but she was not afraid of him now. She rose and spoke to him, recalling the summer afternoon and the man who had made pictures of herself and Bess.
“I don’t know who he was. No, he hasn’t been back to inquire.” The policeman would not have known Dil.
“His name was Mr. John Travis. He writ it on Bess’s picture. I was so ’fraid I’d miss him. But he will come, ’cause he can’t find no one in Barker’s Court. An’ when I get a place, I’ll come an’ bring the number, so’s you can tell him.”
“Yes, I’ll be on the lookout for him.” The child’s grave, innocent faith touched him. How pale and thin she was!
Then she considered. Mrs. Minch would be in the court, she thought. Perhaps she might steal in without any one seeing her who would tell her mother afterward. And she could hear about Dan.
She stopped at a baker’s, and bought some lunch. But by and by she began to grow very tired, and walked slowly, looking furtively about. She was almost at Barker’s Court when a familiar whistle startled her.