"Well, will you?" she asked.
But at this the tangled yellow head was shaken violently. No, she wouldn't.
"It can't be," said Nan, talking to herself, since there was no one who would talk with her, looking with troubled eyes at the two uncombed, unwashed children, with their dresses half torn from them, and dirtier than any dresses that this trim little maiden had ever seen before, "this really cannot be the place! and yet father said this street and number; and the driver said this was right." Then she stooped to the little one. "Won't you tell me if your name is Satie Decker?"
But this one was shy, and hid her dirty face in her dirty hands, and stepped back behind her sister who at once came to the rescue.
"Yes, 'tis," she said, "and you let her alone."
A shadow fell over Nan's face, but she said quickly, "Then you must be Susie Decker, and this place is really home!"
But you cannot think how strangely it sounded to her to call such a looking spot as this home. There was no use in standing on the doorstep. She could feel that curious eyes were peeping at her from neighbors' windows. She stepped quickly inside the half-open door, into the kitchen where that breakfast-table still stood, with the flies so thick around the molasses cup, from which the children had long since drained the molasses, that it was difficult to tell whether there was a cup behind it, or whether this really was a pyramid of flies.
The children followed her in. Susie had a dark frown on her face, and a determined air, as one who meant to stand up for her rights and protect the little sister who still tried to hide behind her. I think it was well they were there; had they not been, I feel almost sure that the stranger would have sat down in the first chair and cried.
Poor little woman! It was such a sorrowful home-coming to her. So different from what she had been planning all day.
I wish I could give you a real true picture of her as she stood in the middle of that dreadful room, trying to choke back the tears while she convinced herself that she was really Nettie Decker. A trim little figure in a brown and white gingham dress, a brown straw hat trimmed with broad bands and ends of satin ribbon, with brown gloves on her hands, and a ruffle in her neck. This was Nettie Decker; neat and orderly, from ruffle to buttoned boots. I wonder if you can think what a strange contrast she was to everything around her?