use.

"Oh, she won't let me in!" said Gerty "and I wouldn't go if she would."

"Who won't let you in?--your mother?"

"No! Nan Grant?"

"Who's Nan Grant?"

"She's a horrid, wicked woman, that drowned my kitten in bilin' water."

"But where's your mother?"

"I ha'n't got none."

"Who do you belong to, you poor little thing?"

"Nobody; and I've no business anywhere!"

"With whom do you live, and who takes care of you?"

"Oh, I lived with Nan Grant; but I hate her. I threw a stick of wood at
her head, and I wish I had killed her!"

"Hush! hush! you musn't say that! I'll go and speak to her."

True moved to the door, trying to draw Gerty in; but she resisted so
forcibly that he left her outside, and, walking into the room, where Nan
was binding up her head with a handkerchief, told her she had better
call her little girl in, for she would freeze to death out there.

"She's no child of mine," said Nan; "she's the worst little creature
that ever lived; it's a wonder I've kept her so long; and now I hope
I'll never lay eyes on her agin--and, what's more, I don't mean. She
ought to be hung for breaking my head! I believe she's got an ill spirit
in her!"

"But what'll become of her?" said True. "It's a fearful cold night.
How'd you feel, marm, if she were found to-morrow morning all _friz_ up
on your door-step!"

"How'd I feel! That's your business, is it? S'posen you take care on her
yourself! Yer make a mighty deal o' fuss about the brat. Carry her home,
and try how yer like her. Yer've been here a talkin' to me about her
once afore, and I won't hear a word more. Let other folks see to her, I
say; I've had more'n my share, and as to her freezin', or dyin' anyhow,
I'll risk her. Them children that comes into the world, nobody knows
how, don't go out of it in a hurry. She's the city's property--let 'em
look out for her; and you'd better go, and not meddle with what don't
consarn you."

True did not wait to hear more. He was not used to an angry woman, who
was the most formidable thing to him in the world. Nan's flashing eyes
and menacing attitude warned him of the coming tempest, and he hastened
away. Gerty had ceased crying when he came out, and looked into his face
with the greatest interest.

"Well," said he, "she says you shan't come back."

"Oh, I'm so glad!" said Gerty.

"But where'll you go to?"

"I don't know! p'raps I'll go with you, and see you light the lamps."

"But where'll you sleep to-