“But I have good clothes now and pretty ones,” and she looked with an air of satisfaction upon the package. “Will mamma come?”
The man trembled with suppressed emotion, which was noticed by the boy, who looked up into his face and waited for the answer.
“Your mother will be given a home where she will suffer no more sorrow nor distress of body or mind,” he answered, and again relapsed into silence until they reached the asylum, were admitted and stood in the presence of the matron.
“Have you brought these children for admission?” she asked.
The man nodded; he could not summon voice to speak.
“Where is your permit?”
For answer he turned as quickly as his weakness would allow, placed the package upon a chair and left the building.
“Well, this is a strange proceeding, I must say,” commented the matron, looking from the window at the retreating figure passing down the walk with uncertain steps. “Is that man your father?”
Something in the tone and manner aroused the quick temper of the girl and she refused to answer, and silenced the boy by a look when appeal was made to him.
“What is your name?” continued the matron, turning again to her.