At this juncture the matron was summoned from the room, and, during the silence that ensued, Jessie climbed into her sister’s lap, wound her thin arms around her neck, and softly rubbed her pale cheek against the polished rosy face, where perplexity and annoyance were legibly written.
“Salome, don’t you love me a little?”
“Of course I do; Jessie, don’t be so foolish.”
“Please let me go with you and Stanley.”
“Do you want to starve,—you poor silly thing?”
“Yes; I would rather starve with Buddie than stay here by myself.”
“I want to hear no more of such nonsense. You have not tried starving, and you are too young to know what is really for your good. Now, listen to me. At present I am obliged to leave you here,—come, don’t begin crying again; but, if you will be a good girl and try not to fret over what cannot be helped, I promise you that just as soon as I can possibly support you I will take you to live with me.”
“How long must I wait?”
“Until I make money enough to feed and clothe you.”