"Who said I's dead? What—a—drefful—lie!"
"O, nobody said so, Fly; only we thought p'rhaps you was; and what would we do without you, you know?"
"Why, if I's dead," said Fly, untying her bonnet strings, "then the funy-yal would come round and take me; that's all."
"We are most grateful to you," said Aunt Madge, turning to Mrs. Brooks, "for bringing home this lost child; but do tell us where you found her."
Then Mrs. Brooks related all she knew of Fly's wanderings, the little one putting in her own explanations.
"I didn' be lost," said she sharply. "I feel jus' like frettin', when you say I's lost. 'Tis the truly truth; I's walking on the streets, and a naughty woman, she's got my hangerfiss—had ashes roses on it."
"Yes, I put some otto of rose on it this morning," said Prudy. "What a shame!"
"And I gave my flowers to the sick man. He was on the bed, with a blue bed-kilt. A girl name o' Maria, tookened me home. The seeingness is all gone out of her eyes, so she can't see."
"How long has your husband been sick?" asked Mrs. Allen of the woman, while she was taking lunch in the dining-room. "Did you tell me he knew Colonel Allen?"
Mrs. Brooks dropped her knife and fork; but her lips trembled so she could not speak. Flyaway, who sat in Horace's lap, eating ginger-snaps, exclaimed, "She wants some perjerves, auntie. She don't get no perjerves, nor nuffin nice to her house."