"Where can I put him, grandmother?"

"Fer the land sakes! I don't know," said the grandmother, looking around

the room in alarm. "We haven't any place fer horses. Perhaps you might get

him into the back yard fer a while till we think what to do. There's a

stable, but they charge high to board horses. Lizzie knows one of the

fellers that works there. Mebbe he'll tell us what to do. Anyway, you lead

him round to the alleyway, and we'll see if we can't get him in the little

ash-gate. You don't suppose he'd try to get in the house, do you? I

shouldn't like him to come in the kitchen when I was getting supper."

"O no!" said Elizabeth. "He's very good. Where is the back yard?"

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This arrangement was finally made, and the two women stood in the kitchen

door, watching Robin drink a bucketful of water and eat heartily of the

various viands that Mrs. Brady set forth for him, with the exception of

the excelsior, which he snuffed at in disgust.

"Now, ain't he smart?" said Mrs. Brady, watching fearfully from the

door-step, where she might retreat if the animal showed any tendency to

step nearer to the kitchen. "But don't you think he's cold? Wouldn't he

like a--a--shawl or something?"

The girl drew the old coat from her shoulders, and threw it over him, her

grandmother watching her fearless handling of the horse with pride and

awe.

"We're used to sharing this together," said the girl simply.

"Nan sews in an up-town dressmaker's place," explained Mrs. Brady by and

by, when the wash was hung out in fearsome proximity to the weary horse's

heels, and the two had returned to the warm kitchen to clean up and get

supper. "Nan's your ma's sister, you know, older'n her by two year; and

Lizzie, that's her girl, she's about 's old 's you. She's got a good place

in the ten-cent store. Nan's husband died four years ago, and her and

me've been livin' together ever since. It'll be nice fer you and Lizzie to

be together. She'll make it lively fer you right away. Prob'ly she can get

you a place at the same store. She'll be here at half past six to-night.

This is her week to get out early."

The aunt came in first. She was a tall, thin woman with faded brown hair

and a faint resemblance to Elizabeth's mother. Her shoulders stooped

slightly, and her voice was nasal. Her mouth looked as if it was used to

holding pins in one corner and gossiping out of the other. She was one of

the kind who always get into a rocking-chair to sew if they can, and rock

as they sew. Nevertheless, she was skilful in her way, and commanded good

wages. She welcomed the new niece reluctantly, more excited over her

remarkable appearance among her relatives after so long a silence than

pleased, Elizabeth felt. But after she had satisfied her curiosity she was

kind, beginning to talk about Lizzie, and mentally compared this thin,

brown girl with rough hair and dowdy clothes to her own stylish daughter.

Then Lizzie burst in. They could hear her calling to a young man who had

walked home with her, even before she entered the house.




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