alk for ten minutes."

"Then," said Mrs. Foley solemnly, "the wor-r-rld has come to an end.
When Hen Haney can't talk----"

But she mounted heavily to the platform. Little Henrietta stood there
like a wax figure. She dared not move for fear something would happen
to her finery.

Every individual freckle on her thin, sharp face seemed to shine as
though there was some radiance behind it. Absurd as that taffeta dress
was for a child of her age, it seemed to her an armor against all
disaster. Nothing bad (she had already acclaimed it to Amy and Jessie)
could happen to her with that frock on. And those silk stockings! And
the patent-toed shoes! And a hat that almost hid the child's features
from view!

"Well, well, well!" muttered the amazed Mrs. Foley. "If anybody had
ever told me that you'd have been dressed up like--like a
millionaire's kid! When I took you away from your poor dead mother and
brought you out here, Hen Haney, to be a playfellow of me little
Charlie, and Billy, and--and--Well, anyway, to be a playmate to them.
Ha! You never cleaned out the stove-grate, did you?"

She had looked into the kitchen and saw the dishes in the sink and the
gaping stove hearth, and shook her head. Jessie thought it time to
intercede for the little girl.

"You must forgive her, Mrs. Foley, and blame me. I made her dress up
in the things we brought. I was sure you would want to see her in her
Sunday clothes."

A deep sigh welled up from Henrietta's chest. "Am I going to
sure-enough keep 'em to wear Sundays?" she asked.

"If Mrs. Foley will let you," said the politic Jessie. "You can keep
them very carefully. It is really wonderful how well they fit."

"Sure," sighed Mrs. Foley, "she's better dressed than me own
children."

"But you told us your children were all boys," Amy put in quickly.

"Aw, but a time like this I wish't I had a daughter," declared the
woman, gazing at Henrietta almost tenderly. "What a sweet little
colleen she might be if she had some flesh on her bones and something
besides freckles to color her face. Yes, yes!"

"I am awfully glad, Mrs. Foley," said Jessie quickly, "to see how much
you approve of what we have tried to do for Henrietta. So I am bold
enough to ask you to let us take her up to my house for over night.
Momsy wants to see her in these new clothes, and----"

"Well, if Mrs. Momsy--Or is it Mr. Momsy, I dunno?"

"Why, Momsy is my mother!"

"The like o' that now! And she lets you ca