"Come, little girl," said Jack, kindly, and 'Tilda Jane, seeing that the inevitable had once more overtaken her, rose resignedly, but the too kind and officious old lady clung to her so wildly that the two men were forced to draw her away from her.
'Tilda Jane, in a state of complete bewilderment totally unmixed with terror, for she had taken a liking to the kind face of her guide, trotted meekly after him into the shadow of a long V-shaped building. The platform was crowded with people. Two trains were standing at the station, and in a large dining-room on her right she saw thronged tables and hurrying waitresses.
She was ushered into a room where there was a handsomely dressed woman with a flushed face and tearful eyes, a dejected looking boy and girl sitting very close to each other, a diminutive and poorly dressed German Jew, and a composed looking man sitting behind a small table.
"I'll have to leave you now," said her guide. "Don't be scared, but speak up," and with a reassuring smile he disappeared.
[CHAPTER VI.]
DEAF AND DUMB.
'Tilda Jane sat down on a bench in the corner and took the dog on her lap.
The fashionably dressed woman was speaking and gesticulating earnestly in front of the man whose face was only a trifle less calm and stony than that of Ruth Ann.
"I never heard of such a thing in my life—to take my sealskin coat from me in the dead of winter. Now if it was summer, it wouldn't be so bad. My nice coat that cost me four hundred and seventy-five dollars."