Mrs. Bennett hugged her closer and patted her cheek softly, but let the passion of tears spend itself a little before trying the comfort of words. Then she questioned of the child’s parents, her past life, and the events just preceding the catastrophe in San Francisco, that she herself might better understand how to shield and make happy the little waif that a terrible, heaving earth had cast into her home, her arms.,
“And I’m always going to be your little girl, too,” the child pleaded; “so Billy must be my papa’s little boy.”,
“I am not going to let you see any more compositions,” exclaimed Nell, “You are just making fun of my poor children.”.
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