laugh
immoderately.

"Young and tender chuckens," she said, "an' chops an' new-laid heggs an'
milk. Wotever's the matter with yer, Connie?"

Connie answered timidly that she though Ronald a dear little boy, and
very pretty, and that she hoped that he would soon get strong with the
nourishing food that Mrs. Warren was going to give him. But here that
worthy woman winked in so mysterious and awful a manner that poor Connie
felt as though she had received an electric shock. After a time she
spoke again.

"I'm so glad about his father!" she said. "His father was a hofficer in
the harmy. Will he really see him to-night, Mrs. Warren?"

"Will the sky fall?" was Mrs. Warren's ambiguous answer. "Once for all,
Connie, you ax no questions an' you'll be told no lies."

A very few moments afterwards Ronald came out of the little bedroom,
prepared for his journey. Mrs. Cricket cried when she parted with him,
but there were no tears in the boy's lovely eyes--he was all smiles and
excitement.

"I'll bring my own, own father down to see you, Mrs. Cricket," he said;
"maybe not to-morrow, but some day next week. For you've been very good
to me, darling Mrs. Cricket."

Then Mrs. Cricket kissed him and cried over him again, and the scene
might have been prolonged if Mrs. Warren had not caught the boy roughly
by the shoulder and pulled him away.

As they were marching down the tiny path which led from the cottage to
the high-road, Mrs. Cricket did venture to say in an anxious voice:

"I s'pose as Major Harvey'll pay me the little money as I spended on the
dear child?"

"That he will," said Mrs. Warren. "I'll see him to-night, most like, and
I'll be sure to mention the chuckens and the chops."

"Well then, good-bye again, darling," said Mrs. Cricket. Ronald blew a
kiss to her, and then, taking Connie's hand, they marched down the
high-road in the direction of the railway station, Mrs. Warren trotting
by their side, carrying the small bundle which contained Ronald's
clothes all tied up neatly in a blue check handkerchief.

"Yer'll be sure to tell yer father wot a good nurse I were to you,
Ronald," she remarked as they found themselves alone in a third-class
carriage.

"You're quite sure it _was_ only a dream?" said Ronald then very
earnestly.

"Wot do yer mean by that, chile?" inquired Mrs. Warren.

"I mean the dark room without any light, and the dreadful person
who--who--flogged me, and--the hunger."

"Poor little kid!