Elsie shook her head.
“No, you couldn’t. Because she feeds me well enough and gives me clothing that is clean, and warm enough in winter. No, there isn’t a thing anybody can do. Except wait until I’m old enough to work in somebody’s kitchen.”
“No!” protested Jane.
“But I thought if I could just see you two girls once in a while and talk to you, life wouldn’t seem so bad. If I could call you by your first names——”
“Of course you can,” Mary Louise assured her, and she told Elsie their names. “We’ll come over often. And I don’t believe your aunt will object, because she seems to like us.”
“She loves that kitten,” explained Elsie. “It’s the only thing in the world she does love, besides money.”
“She mentioned her money,” remarked Jane, “and told us that she believed her relatives were trying to get it away from her.”
“By the way,” said Mary Louise, “you started to tell us about something that happened here two nights ago. Remember? What was it?”
Elsie shivered, as though the memory of it were still painful to her.
“I sleep up in the attic, all by myself. And I hear the most awful noises all night. I’m always scared to death to go to bed.”