"I couldn't get away any more," said Gus.
"And were you coming to see me now?"
"No. I didn't know you lived here. I was going to the kitchen to ask for a drink of water."
"Will milk do as well?" asked the young lady, filling a glass from a jug which stood on the table. "Here, sit down and drink it. You look tired."
Gus gladly seated himself on the step of the window, and the girl, who evidently thought that he needed to be cared for as much as the starved kitten, gave him a large slice of cake.
"Now tell me where you live, and what you do with yourself?" she said.
"I live at Glensford," he replied; "that's a long way from here."
"Have you a mother?" she inquired, looking pitifully at Gus' deplorable attire.
"My mother has been dead a long while, and father died a few months ago," he said. "I live with Mrs. Dent, and mind her baby."
"Poor child!" said the young lady. Her voice was soft and caressing as she said this, and Gus thought he had never seen such sweet blue eyes as those that were bent on him. And she, at the same time, was struck with the beauty of his large, innocent blue eyes.