close-fisted man is Mr. Hucks."

"Oh!" said Tilda, enlightened. "When you talked of farmin', you made me
wonder . . .So they're all gone? And Wolverhampton-way, I reckon.
That was to be the next move."

"I've often seen myself travellin' in a caravan," said Mrs. Damper
dreamily. "Here to-day an' gone to-morrow, and only to stretch out your
hand whether 'tis hairpins or a fryin'-pan; though I should never get
over travellin' on Sundays." Here, while her eyes rested on the child,
of a sudden she came out of her reverie with a sharp exclamation.
"Lord's sake! You ain't goin' to tell me they've left you in 'ospital,
stranded!"

"That's about it," said Tilda bravely, albeit with a wry little twist of
her mouth.

"But what'll you do?"

"Oh, I dunno . . . We'll get along some'ow--eh, 'Dolph? Fact is, I got
a job to do, an' no time to lose worryin'. You just read _that_."

Tilda produced and handed her scrap of paper to Mrs. Damper, who took
it, unfolded it, and perused the writing slowly.

"Goin' there?" she inquired at length.

"That depends." Tilda was not to be taken off her guard. "I want you to
read what it says."