"I'll go out this morning," said the seamstress.
"All right. Take Rose along with you, or you may find her missing when you get back."
There was considerable reason to fear that the step-father, James Martin, would make a fresh attempt to get possession of Rose, and Rufus felt that it was prudent to guard against this.
"Have you had breakfast, Rufus?"
"Yes; I got breakfast at the Lodging House."
Here it may be remarked that Rufus had enjoyed advantages superior to most of his class, and spoke more correctly in general, but occasionally fell into modes of pronunciation such as he was accustomed to hear from his street associates. He had lately devoted a part of his evenings to study, under the superintendence of Miss Manning, who, coming originally from a country home, had had a good common-school education.
"It's time I was going down to the office," said Rufus. "Good-morning, Miss Manning. Good-morning, Rosy," as he stooped to kiss his little sister, a pretty little girl of eight.
"Good-morning, Rufie. Don't let Mr. Martin carry you off."
"I think he'd have a harder job to carry me off than you, Rosy," said Rufus, laughing. "Don't engage lodgings on Fifth Avenue, Miss Manning. I'm afraid it would take more than I can earn in Wall Street to pay my share of the expense."
"I shall be content with an humbler home," said the seamstress, smiling.