"As for me," said Henrietta, "I shan't be able to sleep nights until I know that boy's real name."
"Take my word for it," warned Aunty Jane, "he isn't worth saving. He'll prove either a thief or a tramp; or perhaps both. I wouldn't think of taking in a stranger like that."
Mabel was about to retort indignantly, and, it is to be feared, impolitely; for this candid child was sometimes too candid; when Henrietta whispered in her ear:
"Wouldn't it be terrible if he proved to be just like Aunty Jane!"
This thought was so appalling, in spite of its impossibility, that for ten seconds Mabel sat in silence, with her eyes fairly bulging.
"Henrietta," she breathed finally, "weren't—weren't you just fooling?"
"Listen!" warned Henrietta.
"I'd rather be deceived fifty times," Mrs. Crane was saying, "than let even a tramp go hungry; but that's an honest lad or I never saw one. It's quite possible that he's poor, but that's no crime."