“No, my dear.”
“No, she doesn’t,” echoed the little girl, “who is he?”
What, not know Tom Orange! How could that be? So he narrated on that brilliant theme.
“Tom Orange must come to tea with mamma, I’ll tell her to ask him,” decided the young lady.
So these little wiseacres pursued their game, and then had their tea, and in about an hour the little boy found himself trudging home, with a sudden misgiving, for the first time, as to the propriety of his having made these acquaintances without Granny’s leave.
The kind voice, the beloved smile of Granny received him before the cottage door.
“Welcome, darlin’, and where was my darlin’, and what kept him from his old Granny?”
So they hugged and kissed, and then he related all that had happened, and asked “was it any harm, Granny?”
“Not a bit, darlin’, that’s a good lady, and a grand lady, and a fit companion for ye, and see how she knew the gentle blood in your pretty face; and ye may go, as she has asked you, to-morrow evening again, and as often as she asks ye; for it was only the little fellows that’s going about without edication or manners, that your friends, and who can blame them, doesn’t like ye to keep company with—and who’d blame them, seeing they’re seldom out of mischief, and that’s the beginning o’ wickedness, and you’re going, but oh! darlin’, not for three long years, thank God, to a grand school where there’s none but the best.”
So this chance acquaintance grew, and the lady seemed to take every week a deeper interest in the fine little boy, so sensitive, generous, and intelligent, and he very often drank tea with his new friends.