“Girls?” Etta echoed blankly.
The word had no significance to her. All her life she had been shut away having been associated entirely with her parents and the Misses Gates. Her bed was not even by the window. Consequently, she had never been able to look down upon the street where children played.
“Don’t you get lonesome here all by yourself?” Doris asked the girl.
Etta nodded.
“Sometimes it seems as though I can’t stand it.”
“Perhaps we can arrange to take you downstairs some afternoon,” suggested Kitty hopefully.
“But I cannot walk!” Tears came into the sad eyes of Etta.
“Oh, don’t cry, dearie,” soothed Doris. “We easily could manage to take you down.”
“It would be fun, Etta.”
“And we have the cutest little dog we found. We call him Wags because he is so good-natured and wags his tail so much.”