"Poor Almira!" he
said, "I didn't think how hard you would have to work to please her, when I
took her here."
"But you couldn't help it, husband," she cried, looking up at him with a
world of love. "After your mother died, what place was there for her to go?
And she really was good to her."
"Yes," said the minister, and he sighed. "Well, it's done, and she is here;
but oh, Almira, I think it's made a great difference with our boys."
Mrs. Henderson's cheek paled, but it wouldn't do to let him see her
thoughts further on the subject, he was so worn and tired, so she said:
"Well, about the little girl, husband?"
"Yes, Mrs. Fisher's letter must be answered," said the parson, pulling
himself out of his revery. "She asks if we can find a place in Badgertown
for this child, who seems uncommonly clever, and is, so she writes, very
truthful. And I'm sure, Almira, if Mrs. Fisher says so, the last word has
been spoken."
"Yes, indeed," said his wife heartily.
"And they've found out a great deal about her. She's been half starved and
cruelly beaten."
The parson's wife hid her tender eyes on her husband's coat sleeve.
"Oh, dear me!" she exclaimed sympathetically.
"And the old woman who pretended to be her grandmother, and who beat her
because she wouldn't steal, became frightened at the investigation, and has
cleared out, so there is no one to lay a claim to 'Rag.
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