Part 10 (1/2)

Presently she came up to the object of her search--an exceedingly pretty, dark-haired boy of about ten years of age. His face was pale, his features regular, his eyes very large, brown, and soft, like rich brown velvet. He did not pay much attention to Connie, but went on laying out a pile of horse-chestnuts which he had gathered in rows on the ground.

”Be your name Ronald?” said Connie, coming up to him.

He looked at her, then sprang to his feet, and politely took off his little cap.

”Yes, my name is Ronald Harvey.”

”I ha' come to fetch yer,” said Connie.

”What for?” asked the boy.

”It's Mammy Warren,” said Connie in a low tone.

”What?” asked the child.

His face, always pale, now turned ghastly white.

”She's such a nice woman,” said Connie.

She sat down by Ronald.

”Show me these purty b.a.l.l.s,” she said. ”Wot be they?”

”Chestnuts,” said the boy. ”Did you ever see them before? That was not true what you said about--about----”

”Yus,” said Connie, ”it is true. I'm a little gel stayin' with her now, and you--I want you to come back with me. She's real, real kind is Mammy Warren.”

The boy put his hand up to his forehead.

”You seem a nice girl,” he said, ”and you look like--like a lady, only you don't talk the way ladies talk. I'm a gentleman. My father was an officer in the army, and my darling mother died, and--and something happened--I don't know what--but I was very, very, very ill. There was an awful time first, and there seemed to be a woman called Mammy Warren mixed up in the time and----”

”Oh, you had fever,” said Connie, ”and you--you pictured things to yourself in the fever. But 'tain't true,” she added earnestly. ”I'm wid her, an' she's real, real, wonnerful kind.”

”You wouldn't tell a lie, would you, girl?” said the boy.

Connie bit her lip hard.

”No,” she said then in a choked voice.

”I wonder if it's true,” said the boy. ”It seems to me it was much more than the fever, but I can't--I can't _quite_ remember.”

”She is very kind,” echoed Connie.

”Children, come along in,” said a cheerful voice at that moment; and Connie, raising her eyes, saw the st.u.r.dy form of Mrs. Warren advancing up the path to meet her.

”She was terrible cruel in my time,” said Ronald, glancing at the same figure. ”I don't want to go back.”

”Oh, do--do come back, for my sake!” whispered Connie.

He turned and looked into the beautiful little face.