"Hain't no folks! How come you here then?" and the girl Lois
advanced nearer to the bedside.
"A man brought me," returned Edith. "He's gone off now, but will
come again to-night."
"Your father, most likely," continued the loquacious Lois.
"My father!" and Edith laughed scornfully, "Mr. Arthur ain't big
enough to be anybody's father--or yes, maybe he's big enough, for
he's awful tall. But he's got the teentiest whiskers growing you
ever saw," and Edith's nose went up contemptuously at Arthur's
darling mustache. "I don't believe he's twenty," she continued,
"and little girl's pa's must be older than that I guess, and have
bigger whiskers."
"How old are you?" asked Lois, vastly amused at the quaint
speeches of the child, who replied, with great dignity,
"Going on TEN, and in three years more I'll be THIRTEEN!"
"Who are you, any way?" asked Lois, her manner indicating so much
real interest that Edith repeated her entire history up to the
present time, excepting, indeed, the part pertaining to the locket
held so vigilantly in her hand.
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