MICHAEL FINDS A FRIEND
WHEN Michael came out of the house, the girl he had before observed was still leaning against the palings. She was bending forward, her face resting on her hands, which were wrapped in her shawl; but she raised her head as she heard the door close behind Michael, and glancing at her, he saw to his surprise that her eyes were wet with tears. The next moment she sprang to his side, saying imploringly, "Do tell me how she is, sir. You have been in, and you must know the latest."
"She is no better, poor little dear," said Michael, a lump rising in his throat as he spoke. "They fear the worst; but I'm going to fetch a doctor that I hope will cure her. Can you tell me where I can find a cab?"
"Yes, yes," she answered eagerly; "there's a stand just round the corner. I'll show you. Why, I declare if you ain't Michael Betts."
Michael looked at her in wonder. He had a dim idea that he had seen the girl before, but where or how he could not determine.
"That is my name, certainly," he said. "Who are you, I wonder, that you know me so well?"
"P'raps my name is Betts too," she said, giving him a quick glance of her bright, dark eyes.
"Don't be impertinent," he said sternly, "and don't tell me lies, please."
"You needn't fear," she said in a subdued tone. "I haven't the spirit to be impertinent. My heart is like to break thinking of that little angel lying there in such pain."
"Is she in great pain?" asked Michael sadly.