"They don't know nothing about me," said Dreamikins. "I'm just having a holiday to-day, with nobody to say 'No' to me."
"But where do you live, my lovie?"
Dreamikins turned up her blue eyes to Mrs. Dufty reflectively.
"Well, I lives at Brighton, but I stays with Fibo, and I wouldn't ask where he lives if I were you, because I aren't going to tell you."
Then she added with guile:
"I do feel very thirsty; do you think you'd like to give me some milk?"
"Bless your little heart, come along in, and after you've had some tea you'll tell us pretty where you've come from!"
Dreamikins shook her curls from side to side, but followed the farmer's wife into a comfortable kitchen. She was soon sitting up at the table with them, for their tea was already waiting. And Dreamikins thoroughly enjoyed a slice of bread and cream with jam, and a cup of strong tea with three lumps of sugar in it.
"Fibo doesn't like me to drink tea," she said, with a satisfied sigh, as she emptied her first cup and asked for another; "but as I'm being wicked to-day it doesn't matter."
"Oh, fie!" said good-natured Mrs. Dufty, who had no children herself, though she loved them. "Little ladies like you aren't wicked, I'm sure."