“Who is this?” she asked. “Did she come with you?”
“It’s a young friend of mine. She met me at the wharf, and wanted to carry my carpet-bag.”
“You didn’t let her do it?”
“Bless you, no. It’s big enough to pack her away in. But I employed her to carry a bundle. Didn’t I, Tom?”
“What did you call her?” asked his sister.
“Tom. That’s her name, so she says.”
“What made you bring her here?” asked Mrs. Merton, who evidently regarded her brother’s conduct as very queer.
“I’ll tell you, but not before her. Tom, you can go out into the entry, and shut the door behind you. I’ll call you in a few minutes.”
Tom went out, and Captain Barnes returned to the subject.
“She’s got no relations except an intemperate old grandmother,” he said. “I’ve taken a fancy to her, and want to help her along. Can’t you find a place for her in your kitchen?”