"How old is she?" asked the old lady abruptly.
"Five years old."
"Then she'd orter know better than to sass her elders," said the old lady snappishly. "She's badly brung up. Is she your sister?"
"No, ma'am."
"Is she any kin to you?"
"No; I'm her guardian."
The old lady adjusted her spectacles, and surveyed Ben from head to foot in a scrutinizing manner.
"Sho!" said she. "Why, you're a child yourself!"
"I'm fifteen," returned Ben, with dignity.
"You don't mean to say you have the care of the little gal?"