Page:Saxe Holm's Stories, Series Two.djvu/158

148 "Where is my father," she said. "Has he left me?"

Jim looked at me hopelessly.

"Why," said I, "does he often leave you?"

"Yes, sir, sometimes," she said, in a matter-of-fact tone, which was pitiful in its unconscious revelation of the truth.

"What do you do when he leaves you, dear?" said Jim, tenderly as a woman.

"A boy that lived in the room under our room took care of me the last time. He was very good, but he was away all day," replied the waif.

"Well, I 'm the boy that 'll take care of you, this time," said Jim; "if he leaves you here, I 'll take first-rate care of you."

A queer little wintry smile stole over the pinched face.

"But you 're not a boy. You 're a big gentleman—the kindest gentleman I ever saw," she added in a lower tone, and nestled her head on Jim's neck. "I like you."

Jim looked at me proudly, but with tears in his eyes. "Did n't I tell you you never saw anything like it?" he said; then, turning to the child, he looked very earnestly in her face, saying,—

"If you think I 'm a kind gentleman, and will take good care of you, will you mind me?"

"Yes, sir, I will," she replied, with the whole strength of her childish little voice thrown on the "will."