Then she went back to the chair and picked up Polly's sandals, and examined the bead-work with a great deal of interest. “Lawdy, lawdy!” she cried, as she compared the size of the sandals to that of her own rough, worn shoes. She was again upon the point of exploding with laughter, as the church bell added a few, final and more emphatic clangs to its warning.
She turned with a start, motioning a vain warning out of the window for the bell to be silent, but the little sleeper was already stirring uneasily on her pillow. One soft arm was thrown languidly over her head. The large, blue eyes opened and closed dreamily as she murmured the words of the clown song that Jim and Toby had taught her years ago:
“Ting ling,
That's what the bells sing——”
Mandy reached the side of the bed as the girl's eyes opened a second time and met hers with a blank stare of astonishment. A tiny frown came into the small, white forehead.
“What's the matter?” she asked faintly, trying to find something familiar in the black face before her.
“Hush, child, hush,” Mandy whispered; “jes' you lie puffickly still. Dat's only de furs' bell a-ringin'.”
“First bell?” the girl repeated, as her eyes travelled quickly about the strange walls and the unfamiliar fittings of the room. “This ain't the show!” she cried, suddenly.
“Lor' bless you, no; dis ain't no show,” Mandy answered; and she laughed reassuringly.
“Then where am I?” Polly asked, half breathless with bewilderment.
“Nebber you mind 'bout dat,” was Mandy's unsatisfactory reply.