The door of the little house opened, and a little girl, smaller than Merrimeg, stood in the doorway. She was a very ragged little girl, and her face was dirty and sad. She looked at Merrimeg with big solemn eyes.
“I’ve brought you one at last!” cried the Rag-Bone Man. “Here she is! I’ve got one for you at last! Somebody to play with! Here she is, and she’s going to stay with you and play with you, and never go home any more! Now we’ve got her we’ll keep her. Now you’ll have company! Ain’t she a pretty one, though? Ain’t I a good father? Come in, come on in!”
He seized the two little girls by the hand and ran into the house with them.
It was a tiny house, with only two rooms, one in front and one behind. The Rag-Bone Man began to get out plates and knives and forks and set them about on a table in the front room. The two little girls stood staring at each other.
“What’s your name?” said the Rag-Bone Man’s little girl.
“Merrimeg,” said she.
“My name is Rags. That’s my father. He’s been trying for a long, long time to bring me somebody to live with me here and play with me, but they always ran away from him. You’re the first. Are you lonely?”
“No,” said Merrimeg.
“I am. But I won’t be any longer. I’ve got you to play with me now.”
“Can’t I—ever—go home—any more?” said Merrimeg.