school in summer, y' know. Boys hes to work, round here. Mam ain't got
nobody but me 'n Pink, sence father died."

"Who is Pink?" asked Hilda, gently.

"My sister," replied Bubble. "Thet ain't _her_ real name, nuther. Mam
hed her christened Pinkrosia, along o' her bein' so fond o' roses, Mam
was; but we don't call her nothin' only Pink."

"Pink Chirk!" repeated Hilda to herself. "What a name! What can a girl
be like who is called Pink Chirk?"

But now Bubble seemed to think that it was his turn to ask questions. "I
reckon you're the gal that's come to stay at Mr. Hartley's?" he said in
an interrogative tone.

Hilda's brow darkened for a moment at the word "gal," which came with
innocent frankness from the lips of the ragged urchin before her. But
the next moment she remembered that it was only the old Hilda who cared
about such trifles; so she answered pleasantly enough:

"Yes, I am staying at Mr. Hartley's. I only came yesterday, but I am to
stay some time."

"And what mought _your_ name be?" inquired Master Chirk.

"Hildegardis Graham." It was gently said, in a very different voice from
that which had answered Farmer Hartley in the same words the night
before; but it made a startling impression on Bubble Chirk.