"Thank you, sir," said Fred. "I will see that you don't run any risk."
At this moment a young girl of fourteen entered the room. She was the picture of rosy health, and Fred looked at her admiringly. She, too, glanced at him curiously.
"Fred, this is my daughter, Rose," said Mr. Wainwright.
"Is this the boy who came home with Uncle Silas?" asked the young lady.
"Yes, Rose."
"He looks like a nice boy."
Fred blushed at the compliment, but coming from such lips he found it very agreeable.
"Thank you," he said.
"How old are you?" continued Rose. "I'm fourteen."
"I am three years older."