“Oh, no! there was two of us. I had the nicest little sister with me; or maybe I was the little one, for she was older than me. Poor little thing, I’ve lost her altogether.”
Mr. Somers gave a quick start of delight as Will proceeded.
“How came you to lose her?”
“We was both took out. I’ve heard that some rich folks adopted my sister, and wouldn’t let nothing be knowed about her. I was took out, too, by poor folks. They made me work like a dog, till I run away and shifted for myself.”
“Do you know your sister’s name?”
“I think I’d forget my own afore I did hern,” said Will, reproachfully.
“What was it?”
“A pretty name—Jennie—Jennie Somers,” said Will, dwelling affectionately on the name.
Mr. Somers sprung from his chair in intense excitement, and began vigorously to pace the floor.
Will watched him with surprise. He had yet gained no conception of the mystery; he did not know that the old man was burning to clasp him to his arms.