"Yes, ma'am," she added, after a
moment's reflection.
"She actually doesn't know," said Bobaday, sitting down on the
lounge near Carrie. Upon this, aunt Corinne forsook her own black
chair and sat on the other side of their charge.
"Do you begin to remember, now?" inquired Robert Day, smoothing the
listless hands on Carrie's lap.
"How we run off with you--you know," prompted aunt Corinne, dressing
a curl over her finger.
The child looked at each of them, smiling.
"Don't pester her," said Grandma Padgett, taking some work out of
her dress pocket and settling herself by a window to make use of the
last primrose light in the sky.
"If we don't begin to make her talk, she'll forget how," exclaimed
aunt Corinne. "Can't you 'member anything about your father and mother
now, Carrie?"
[Illustration: THE "YOUNG MAN WHO SOLD TICKETS" APPEARS AT THE DOOR.]
The man who was sorting his papers at the table, turned an attentive
eye and ear toward the children. But neither Bobaday nor Corinne
considered that he broke up the family privacy. They scarcely noticed
him.
"Grandma," murmured Carrie vaguely, turning her eyes toward their
guardian by the window.
"Yes, that's Grandma," said Bobaday.
Pages:
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153