'Whoever is this pretty little lady, Rosalie?'
'She's my mammie's sister. Oh, such a good, kind lady! That is her picture when she was quite young: she is married now, and has a little girl of her own. So now I'll tell you all about it,' said Rosalie. 'Just before my mammie died, she gave me that locket, and she said, if ever I had an opportunity, I was to go to my Aunt Lucy. She wrote a letter for me to take with me, to say who I am, and to ask my Aunt Lucy to be kind to me.
'Here's the letter,' said the child, taking it out of the parcel; 'that's my mammie's writing.
"MRS. LESLIE, Melton Parsonage."
Didn't she write beautifully?'
'Well, but Rosalie,' said Betsey Ann, 'what do you mean to do?'
'I mean to go to my Aunt Lucy, dear, and give her the letter.'
'She'll never let you go, Rosalie; it's no use trying. She said you should go to the workhouse, and she'll keep her word!'
'Yes, I know she'll never give me leave,' said Rosalie; 'so I'm going to-morrow morning before breakfast. She doesn't get up till eleven, and I shall be far away then.'
'But, Rosalie, do you know your way?'