“She may come with me, mother,” Edith said, pausing in the lesson with finger uplifted on the beat; “Billy mustn’t go into that bleak tank house.”
Mrs. Bennett crossed the room and laid a tender hand on her daughter’s shoulder. “You’re not strong and need perfect rest. Besides, you spoil the boy. It won’t hurt him to sleep there, and he must take the consequences of his own act.”
“Yet let him sleep downstairs,” Edith persisted.
“No, no, the Fo’castle! I—Here they come!” Billy set down some cups with dangerous haste and ran out.
The little earthquake girl
In spite of noise and heedlessness there was something fine and true about Billy; something that made old Bouncer whine when left behind; something that called the kittens to rub against his legs; that made the little children at school adore him, and men and women smile heartily when they greeted him. It was this mysterious something that brought a wan smile to the small tired face and tired eyes that looked confidingly into his blue ones. He lifted her carefully down from the carriage, and led her up the walk to where his mother and sister came to meet them.
“Your nose is out of joint, Edith! I’ve got a new sister.” But his eyes belied his blunt words.
“Yes, you shall be our dear little girl.” Mrs. Bennett took the forlorn child in her motherly arms and kissed her. “You’re tired and hungry, too, aren’t you?”
“Yes, thank you. But most my heart is hungry. Will you help me to find my mama?”