"No," was her reply, "she is only a child. I want to see her with the children." Alicia was already prepared and, I am bound to admit, partially primed.
"Here is Miss Smith, come to see you, Alicia," I announced with assumed lightness, as I ushered the lady in. Oh, it was very distinctly "ushered."
"How do you do, Alicia," Miss Smith held out her hand, melting at the sight of the children in the midst of play. "How are you—well and happy?"
"Oh, so happy!" answered Alicia, coming forward with flushed cheeks. "I am so glad you came."
"But why didn't you write us, child?" was the gentle remonstrance.
"I am awfully sorry, Miss Smith," from contrite Alicia. "But the time passed so quickly—I was just going to—and I had to get new clothes—and there are so many things to do."
Miss Smith looked down at Alicia's clothes dubiously. Perhaps she thought their quality too ruinously good for one of the inmates of her Home. She then glanced at the silent, wondering children.
"Hello, Miss Smith!" they cried in broken chorus, catching her eye. It was she who had originally brought Alicia to them. "You won't take Alicia away, will you?" Laura spoke up bravely.
"Why, dear?—Wouldn't you like to have her go away?" she returned, smiling uncertainly.
"No! We wouldn't!" replied all the children actually in one voice, with little Jimmie loudest, whereat we both laughed.