“No, not particularly.”
“Are you going to Gravesend?”
“Yes,” replied Joey. “What is your name?”
“Emma Phillips.”
“Have you a father and mother?”
“I have no father; he was killed fighting, a little while after I was born.”
“And your mother—”
“Lives with grandmother, at that house you see there through the large trees. And what are you going to do with yourself? Will you come home with me? and I’ll tell my mother all you have told me, and she is very kind, and will write to your friends.”
“No, no; you must not do that; I am going to seek for employment.”
“Why, what can you do?”