When the parlour door opened, she ran to the front hall, and as Mr. Tracy passed her, she caught his hand and pressed it fervently.
He said nothing, but smiling with the more than earthly sweetness of one who truly loved his fellow men, he hurried back to his deserted guests.
Hank followed close at his heels, and as he stood in the hall doorway, looking already straighter and taller, he smiled patronisingly down at 'Tilda Jane.
"You're a mighty fine girl, sissy, how old are you now?"
"Thirteen o'clock las' week—struck fourteen this—oh, what did the minister say?"
Hank thumped his chest. "He's got me a situation, sissy,—a situation that means bread and butter for you and father, and maybe cake and jam."
The little girl locked her hands in intense excitement. "Where, Hank, oh, where?"
"Here, sissy."
"In Ciscasset?"