“Oh, Carolyn May! Is that you?”
A lame boy was looking through the iron fence of the areaway. He was the janitor’s son.
“Oh, Johnny! I’m real glad to see you!” cried the little girl. Then she added more slowly: “We—we’ve come home again—me and Prince.”
“You’ve growed a lot, Carolyn May,” said the boy. “My pop and mom’s away.”
“I’ll go up into Edna’s flat, then,” the weary little girl sighed.
“The Prices have gone away, too. They won’t be back till to-morrow some time.”
“Oh!” murmured Carolyn May.
“But, say, I can get the keys to your flat. The water’s turned on, too. Everything’s all right up there, for Mrs. Price she sweeps and dusts it all every once in a while. Shall I get the keys?”
“Oh, if you will, please!” returned the relieved child.
The boy hobbled away, but soon returned with the outer-door key and the key to the apartment itself. Carolyn May took them and thanked him. Then she gladly went in and climbed the two flights to their floor.