"But he said a swear word,--yes he, did," sobbed the child, never
doubting that a boy who could swear was capable of murder, though he had
neither hands nor feet.

"Stop, now," said Maria, clutching Fly as if she had been a spinning
top. "This is my house. Mother, mother, here's a little girl; catch
her--hold her--keep her!"

"Me? What should I catch a little girl for?" said Mrs. Brooks, a faded
woman with a tired face, and a nose that moved up and down when she
talked. She had been standing at the door of their tumbledown tenement,
looking for her daughter, and was surprised to see her bringing a
strange child with her. It was not often that well-dressed people
wandered into that dirty alley.

"The poor little thing has got lost, mother. Perhaps _you_ can find out
where she came from. I didn't ask her any questions; it was as much as I
could do to keep up with her."

Maria put her hand on her side. Fast walking always tired her, for she
was afraid every moment of falling.

They had to go down a flight of stairs to get into the house; and after
they got there Fly looked around in dismay.

"I don't want to stay in the stable," she murmured. Indeed it was not
half as nice as the place where her father kept his horse.

"But this is where we have to live," sighed Maria.