Salem was the county town,—quite a pretentious place, with some broad, straight streets, several banks, and, indeed, a thriving business locality. Florence had been there twice with Mrs. Kinsey.
Mrs. Osgood began to question the child about herself. Florence told over her past life, making the best, it must be confessed, of the poverty and discomforts. And yet she seemed to take rather hardly the fact of such a lot having fallen upon her. Mrs. Osgood was secretly pleased with her dissatisfaction.
"I wonder how you would like to live with me?" she questioned. "I think I should enjoy having some one that I could make a companion of—as one never can of a servant."
Flossy's heart beat with a sudden delight, and for the first moment she could hardly speak.
"I live a short distance from New York, on the banks of the Hudson: at least, my house is there, but I travel a great deal. It would be very pleasant to have a—a friend of one's own,"—Mrs. Osgood was not quite sure that it was best or wisest to say child.
"Oh, it would be very delightful! If I could"—and the child's eyes were aglow with delight.
"There are so many of you at home, that your grandmother would not miss one. Besides, I could do a great many nice things for you."
"It is like a dream!" and Flossy thought of her wild day-dream. "And I could sew as well as embroider; and oh! I would try to make myself useful," she said eagerly.
Mrs. Osgood smiled. She had taken a strange fancy to this child, and enjoyed her look of adoration.