"That was very kind of them!"
"Wasn't it very kind?" said the child, her eyes brightening, "especially as I told them it was all myself—that grandpa knew nothing about it. See what a nice new basket it is—you can't think how much courage it gave me. When I came into the market it seemed as if I shouldn't be afraid to ask anybody about trusting me a little."
"And yet you came clear to this side without stopping to ask anybody?"
"I was looking into their faces to see if it would do," answered the child, with meek simplicity, "but there was something in every face that sent the words back into my throat again."
"So you stopped here because it was almost the last stand."
"No, no, I did not think of that," said the child eagerly. "I stopped because something seemed to tell me that this was the place. I thought if you would not trust me, you would, any way, be patient and listen."
The old huckster-woman laughed—a low, soft laugh—and the little girl began to smile through her tears. There was something mellow and comfortable in that chuckle, that warmed her to the heart.
"So you were sure that I would trust you—hey, quite sure?"
"I thought if you wouldn't, there was no chance for me anywhere else," replied the child, lifting her soft eyes to the face of the matron.
Again the old woman laughed.