He glanced at the title, and then looked curiously at her. Beulah chanced just then to turn toward the asylum, and saw one of the oldest girls running across the common. The shadow on her face deepened, and she looked around for Claudia and Lillian. They had tired of sliding, and were busily engaged picking up pine burrs at some little distance in the rear.
"Come, Claudy—Lilly—our matron has sent for us; come, make haste."
"Do you belong to the asylum?" asked the gentleman, shaking the ashes from his cigar.
"Yes, sir," answered she, and, as the children came up, she bowed and turned homeward.
"Wait a moment. Those are not your sisters, certainly?" His eyes rested with unfeigned admiration on their beautiful faces.
"This one is, sir; that is not." As she spoke she laid her hand on Lillian's head. Claudia looked shyly at the stranger, and then, seizing Beulah's dress, exclaimed:
"Oh, Beulah, don't let us go just yet! I left such a nice, splendid pile of burrs!"
"Yes, we must go; yonder comes Katy for us. Good-evening, sir."
"Good-evening, my little friend. Some of these days I shall come to the asylum to see you all, and have you sing that song again."
She made no reply, but, catching her sister's hand, walked rapidly homeward. Katy delivered Mrs. Williams' message, and assured Beulah she must make haste, for Miss Dorothy was displeased that the children were absent.