"We must not think of that," cried Joshua Peniman hastily. "The Providence which threw her into our hands will see to it that we are able to feed her. When we reach another town of size I will write to the relatives of which her mother spoke. Until that time——"
"—Until that time," interrupted Mrs. Peniman, with her motherly smile, "she shall be even as our own, and we will care for her as her poor young parents would have wished her to be cared for."
"God bless thee for a good and noble woman, Hannah," said her husband; and so the fate of the little stranger was decided.
Meanwhile as the wagons jogged on through the long, hot, silent afternoon the children grew better acquainted, and presently began to talk of themselves and one another.
"How long have you been on the way, Princess?" asked the irrepressible Sam. "We been out eight weeks now."
The little stranger looked up at him quickly.
"My name isn't 'Princess,' it's Nina," she said.
"But you look just like a princess—like the princess in the fairy stories, don't you know?"
Nina, who had been an indefatigable reader of fairy tales herself, recognized the compliment.
"Aw, no I don't, either!" she ejaculated scornfully. "The princesses in fairy stories are always beautiful."