"Oh yus," said Sue; "I love her jest as though she were my real sister."
"An' yer do think as she'll come back again?"
"I'm sartin sure of it."
"Turn and walk with me a bit, Sue. I were near mad w'en I met yer, but somehow you ha' given me a scrap o' hope."
"Mr. Harris," said Sue, all of a sudden, "you were cruel to Connie last night; but w'en she comes back again you'll be different, won't yer?"
"I tuk the pledge this morning," said Harris in a gloomy voice.
"Then in course you'll be different. It were w'en yer tuk too much that you were queer. W'en you're like you are now you're a wery kind man."
"Be I, Sue?" said Harris. He looked down at the small girl. "No one else, unless it be pore Connie, iver called me a kind man."
"And I tell yer wot," continued Sue—"ef ye're sure she'll come back—as sure as I am—she——"
"Then I am sure," said Harris. "I'm as sure as there's a sky above us. There now!"