"I thank you," Ladybird answered with a stiff little courtesy, then she followed Precious and Norah upstairs.
Some dry garments were soon found, and Norah took the wet ones away.
"You shall have them nice and dry directly," she said kindly, but as she took her way kitchenward, she mused: "This pretty girl reminds me very, very much of the lovely Miss Clendenon, Mrs. Winans' girl-friend, that afterward married Mr. Bruce Conway. This one is like her, but it could not be her daughter, for the little one she named for my mistress, Grace Willard, died before it was a year old, and poor Mrs. Conway, sweet little soul, died herself two years after, and I never heard that she left a child, although to be sure we were abroad then, and when we got home all the Conways were dead but Mr. Bruce, and he had disappeared. He always was a rolling stone."
Meanwhile the two young girls, left alone in the beautiful airy room upstairs, proceeded to get acquainted.
"I don't feel any worse from my ducking, dear, but I'll lie on the bed awhile and rest," cried Ladybird, rumpling up her wet curls with taper fingers.
"Do, dear, and tell me all about it. How did you happen to fall in?" asked Precious.
"It's a long story, Miss Winans," laughingly.
"Call me Precious," said the girl sweetly.
"Thank you, I will; but is that your real name? I never heard of any one named Precious."
"My real name is Pearl; but my mamma called me Precious Pearl so much that it became shortened at last to Precious."