"Land sakes, child, stay where you be! I guess he can't do no harm if you'll watch him."
"No ma'am, he'll not rampage. He's little, an' he's ole, an' he's lame, an' he don't care much for walkin'. Sometimes you'll hear nothin' out o' him all day but a growl or a snap."
The landlady drew away from the bundle, and after she had seen the tired head laid on the pillow, she softly closed the door of the room.
In two minutes 'Tilda Jane was asleep. The night before she had not dared to sleep. To-day, under the protection of the creamery shark, she could take her rest, her hunger satisfied by the cake he had given her in the sleigh. The shark crept in once to look at her. "Ain't she a sight?" he whispered to Mrs. Minley, who accompanied him, "a half-starved monkey."
She playfully made a thrust at his ribs. "Oh, go 'long with you—always making your jokes! How can a child look like a monkey?"
He smiled, well pleased at her cajoling tone, then, stretching himself out in an armchair, he announced that dinner must be postponed for an hour to let the child have her sleep out.
Mrs. Minley kept a pleasant face before him, but gave vent to some suppressed grumbling in the kitchen. With fortitude remarkable in a hungry man, he waited until one o'clock, then, losing patience, he ate his dinner, and, telling Mrs. Minley that he had business in the neighbourhood, and would not be back until supper-time, he drove away in his sleigh.
At six o'clock 'Tilda Jane felt herself gently shaken, and opening her eyes, she started up in alarm.
"All right—'tain't the police," said Mrs. Minley. "I know all about you, little girl. You needn't be scared o' me. Get up and have a bite of supper. Mr. Dillson's going away, and he wants to see you."
'Tilda Jane rose and put on her shoes in silence. Then she followed the landlady to the next room. For an instant she staggered back. She had never before seen such a huge, open fireplace, never had had such a picture presented to her in the steam-heated orphanage. Fresh from troubled dreams, it seemed as if these logs were giants' bodies laid crosswise. The red flames were from their blood that was being licked up against the sooty stones. Then the ghastliness vanished, and she approvingly took in the picture,—the fat young creamery shark standing over the white cat and rubbing her with his toe, the firelight on the wall and snowy table, and the big lamp on the mantel.