“They do!” she said gravely, “and of the eldest, too, I think. Yesterday when granny gave Geoffrey a book and didn’t give me one, she said it was given to Geoffrey because he was the eldest. I don’t think it is very nice to be an in-between, do you, Miss Potts?”
“I don’t know, dear,” said Miss Potts, with a deep sigh. “I’d be glad to be anything if only I’d got some brothers and sisters.”
“Miss Potts, didn’t you ever have any?” Priscilla was standing at the end of the counter, gazing up at the tall, thin woman behind it. Miss Potts was certainly a very interesting person, she thought—so much seemed to have happened in her life. Miss Potts shook her head, and passed her hand across her eyes.
“I had them, Miss Priscilla,” she said softly, “but I’m the only one left.”
“I am very sorry,” said Priscilla, in a tone of sympathy. “It must be dreadfully sad for you; I hope you didn’t mind my asking.” Then, after a moment’s pause, “I’ll be your sister, if you would like me to, Miss Potts. Of course, I couldn’t live with you always, but——”
“I wonder what your pa and ma would say to that, dear,” said Miss Potts, half laughing, half crying. “It is very kind of you to think of it, I’m sure, but I reckon you’ve got brothers and sisters enough already.”
“Well, anyhow I can come in very often to see you. That will make it seem a little less lonely, won’t it? And— Oh, there’s Geoffrey running away. I must go, because I want to see Loveday unwrap her paint-box. I wonder if she will let me use it too. I think she might, considering. There are two brushes, aren’t there? and she can’t use both at once. Good-bye, Miss Potts. I will come again soon. O Geoffrey, you are mean! You might as well wait, when you know I am hurrying as fast as ever I can.”