“Where’s your home then?” said the woman, laying her hand on Peggy’s shoulder and looking hard at her.
“Oh, my home is with my Aunt Euphemia, and her house is called Seafield, and I can’t find it,” sobbed Peggy.
“Well, I’ll show you the way back, if you give me something for my trouble,” the woman said.
“I’ve nothing to give you but my little basket,” said Peggy.
“That pretty dress would please me better, and them brown shoes,” said the woman. “Just sit down there and take them off; they’ll be about the size for my Bessie here.”
“I’ll give you my shoes,” said poor Peggy; “but really I can’t give you my frock, for how could I walk home in my petticoat?”
“Give me the shoes then,” said the woman. So down sat Peggy on the heap of stones, and tugged off her brown shoes, and handed them to the woman, who tucked them into her basket. “And now I’ll just have them brown stockings too,” she said.
Peggy pulled off her stockings, and stood up on her little bare white feet. “Now, please, show me the way home,” she said.
“Well, I must have the frock too. Look at Bessie all in rags,” said the woman.
She glanced up and down the road to see that no one was coming, and then hastily began to pull off Peggy’s frock.