"Have you no home, my dear?"
"No, sir, 'xcept this, unless you turn me out of it."
"If we do turn you out of it, my child, it will be to put you in a better one."
"Don't, sir; oh, please don't!" she cried.
"Not put you in a more comfortable home, my dear?" I asked in surprise.
"I don't want a more comfortable one, sir, till Molly comes back. If she don't find me 'ere, where's she to look for me, and 'ow am I to know? I 'ope you won't turn me away; I do 'ope it, sir!"
"There, there, my dear," I said, "you need not distress yourself. Depend upon it we will do nothing that you do not wish done, and that is not for your good. We will see about it all presently. Where is your sister?"
"That's wot I want to know, sir; that's wot I want to find out. Oh, wot wouldn't I give if I knew where Molly was!"
There was pregnant matter here for me to think about. The child did not want to find another home till her sister came back. Came back where? To this Heaven-forsaken house. It was here that Molly would come to look for the poor little waif. The conclusion was that Molly knew something of the house, was familiar with it, else she would not expect to find her young sister in it. Was it a reasonable conclusion that she knew something of the last tenant, and could give me some information concerning him? I did not pursue the subject with the little girl in this direction, deeming it best to await a more advantageous opportunity for learning what I desired to know.
"What was it Molly said to you that you will never forget?" I asked.