"Eh, dearie me, now! to think of that!" said the old woman, sympathisingly. "And you were hurt a great deal, I daresay."
"I lost my leg," said Kate.
"Well, now, I can feel for you there,—not as I ever lost one of mine, as is as good as ever,—but I as good as lost one in Mr. Fred. You remember, Miss Violet, my dear, that summer when he fell from the apple tree, and the doctor said as he'd never seen such a leg. Dearie me, what a sight of trouble we had with him to be sure!"
Violet had risen from her seat, and came towards the two poor girls.
"I want you to let me pin some of these roses in your dresses," she said, brightly. "They are so sweet. Do you care for flowers?"
"I do. Thank you, Miss, very much." Kate lifted her head, and for a moment the two girls looked each other full in the face. Such a contrast they were! Violet all glowing with life and happiness and beauty; and Kate with her old, sad face, and pathetic, dark eyes.
"Nanny, dear," said Violet, turning to the old nurse; "don't you think my other cloak would make quite a nice soft cushion? Do reach it over," and in one moment more poor Kate, who, truth to say, was getting very weary with her journey, found something that she could lean her tired back against with comfort.
Violet went back to her seat, and for some little time sat still, with a book in her hand but her eyes kept wandering off to the two poor girls in the farther corner. After old Nanny had fallen asleep, Violet at length came and sat next the girls.
"Do you mind my asking,—are you sisters?" she asked, in her soft voice.
"No, Miss," said Kate. "It pleased God to take my little sister. And this is a little girl He sent me instead, when my heart was pretty nigh broken."