Ethel hastened out into the grounds in search of her brother and sisters, for she had been feeling anxious about them, lest, without her care and oversight, they should get into mischief, or in some way incur the displeasure of Mrs. Coote.
They were all three at the dividing fence between the parsonage yard and that of the next neighbor. A prettily dressed and attractive looking little girl, about the age of Nannette, stood near by on the other side of the fence, and the four seemed to be making acquaintance.
“What oo name, little girl?” Nannette was asking as Ethel drew near.
“I’se Mary Keith. What all of you names?”
“I’se Nan, an’ dis is Blanche nex’ to me,” was the reply.
“And I’m Harry, and here comes Ethel, our big sister,” announced the little boy. “What made you stay away so long, Ethel?”
“I had to do some work. I’ve just finished,” she answered; “but now I have leave to stay with you till we’re called to our dinner.”
Two ladies seated on the porch overlooking that part of the grounds were watching the little ones with interest.
“Who are they? I never saw any children there before; did you, Flora?” asked the elder one.
“No, mother, but Mrs. Coote’s girl told ours that they are some orphan little ones whom the Cootes have taken to bring up. Poor little dears, they are very young to be both fatherless and motherless!”