“New York,” replied the outcast curtly.
“How came you here?”
“Mother left me down yonder,” said the girl, pointing to the four cross-roads just beyond.
“Where is your mother now?”
“Don’t know.”
“What did she say when she left you?”
“She told me to sit on the trough of the pump while she went to buy some bread. But she didn’t come back, and I came over here out of the wind.”
“How long since she left you?”
“Ever so long.”
“Poor little girl! I’m afraid your mother brought you out here to cast you off, and so get rid of you,” said Uncle Morris.