"Yes. But her mother is an invalid, so mamma allows her to go home every Saturday night and come back on Monday morning. Mamma says it is pleasant to have Sunday to ourselves. But I like Miss Shelley very much, and should be dull without her if papa were not at home. I do love Sundays, because papa's here. Did you ever read 'The Old English Baron'?"
"No."
"Shall I lend it you to take home?" continued Annabel, her cheeks glowing, her eyes sparkling with good-nature. "I have it for my own now. It is a very nice book. Have your sisters read it? Perhaps you have no sisters?"
"I have no real sisters, and my father and mother are dead. I have—"
"Oh dear, how sad!" interrupted Annabel, clasping her hands. "Not to have a father and mother! Was it"—after a pause—"you who lived with Miss Methold?"
"Yes. Did you know her?"
"I knew her; and I liked her—oh, very much. Papa used to take me to see her sometimes. With whom do you live now?"
"I live in lodgings."
She stood looking at me with her earnest eyes—thoughtful eyes just then.
"Then who sews the buttons on your shirts?"