Her father came into the kitchen.
"Who's there? Why, my dear little girl, what are you doing?"
"I'm—I've got company," Mary Frances stammered, not liking to say tramp. "That is—I—oh, Father, this gentleman was so hungry—and I——"
"Go into the house—and I shall see you."
"Be gone!" thundered her father to the tramp, pointing to the gate.
"Begging pardon, sir," said the tramp, touching his cap, "but may I say one word?"
"Make it short."
