“My—charges? Nothing. I’d be so glad to do something for you, who have always been doing things for me.”
“I’ve known you a few weeks, little girl, and I’ve done very little. Will five cents a pair be satisfactory?”
“I couldn’t take so much. I couldn’t take anything.”
“That or nothing. I’m business. That would make you quite independent of all help except your own, and be a great benefit to me.”
“Of course, then. And oh! thank you!”
“Now, pack up your work, little bread-winner, and let’s back to Bonny-Gay.”
CHAPTER IX
BY THE STRENGTH OF LOVE
The days sped by. The summer heat deepened and there were thankful hearts in the vine-covered mansion in Mt. Vernon Place. For Bonny-Gay was well again; able to run about her beloved park, and to play in the shadow of the lion with the few children left still in that part of the city.
Nearly all the big houses were now closed, however, and their owners departed to seashore or mountain. The McClures themselves were making preparations for their own summer flitting to the great country house of which the little girls had talked. They would have still enjoyed being together, but that could no longer be.
A very few days after Mary Jane had made her business contract with the Gray Gentleman, and he had himself spoken to the conductors of the cars upon which she would have to take her daily ride—so that everything was made easy and safe for her—those rides had ceased. William Bump returned as suddenly as he had departed, and, with all his old enmity against more fortunate folk, had immediately forbidden them.