“I heard of his death, and that the child—that is, you—had been taken by relatives, but I knew nothing beyond the bare facts. Who were the relatives, child? Where have you been living since? And how did it come about that you are here, doing deputy for that nice Miss Lorimer?”
Nell’s head dropped a little. It hurt her pride a great deal to have to speak of those years she had spent at the Lone House on Blue Bird Ridge, in the home of Doss Umpey.
“I’ve lived with granfer ever since; that is, until last fall,” she said, in a low tone.
“With Doss Umpey? It isn’t possible, surely!” Mrs. Nichols held up her hands in very real amazement. “Why, he was a horrid, vulgar old man, and you are a lady, only your hands are so rough.”
Nell laughed. “I don’t think it matters whom you live with—if you can’t help it, that is. Father meant me to stay with Mrs. Chapman until I was old enough to earn my living, and he thought there would be enough money to do it; but when he died it was found there wasn’t any. Then granfer offered to take care of me, and so I had to go.”
“Where did you live?” asked Mrs. Nichols; but when Nell told her of the isolated house in the wide forest, she held up her hands in fresh dismay, declaring that such a life was too dreadful even to think about.
“I didn’t mind the loneliness so much, not after the first, for there were mostly horses and dogs for company, but it did worry me because I could not get to know things, and every year made it worse,” Nell said, with a sigh, remembering her limitations.
“Where is Doss Umpey now—dead?” demanded Mrs. Nichols, with a sharper note coming into her voice.
“He went away. I don’t know where he is now,” Nell replied briefly.
“Leaving you to shift for yourself?” cried the good woman, wrathfully.