Huldah hesitated a moment, somewhat at a loss how to explain.
"She isn't my real aunt, though I calls her so. She and Uncle Tom
ain't any relation to me really. They're called Smith, and my name
is Huldah Bate; but when mother died--"

"Haven't you got any mother?"

"No, ma'am, and father is dead too. He died when I was too little to
remember, and mother earned her living by making baskets, and when I
was big enough she taught me."

"How long ago did your mother die?" asked Mrs. Perry, more gently.

"Two years, ma'am, and when she died Aunt Emma and Uncle Tom said I
was to go and live with them. They said mother had said I was to."

"Um! Did your mother think so much of them, then?"

"No, ma'am. They was always too rough for mother, they drinks a lot,
and--and swears terrible, and they'm always fighting."

"I wonder at your mother leaving you to such people to be took care
of."

"I don't believe mother ever did," said Huldah, "she never told me
so, anyway," and she burst into bitter sobs; "but there wasn't
anybody else there, and they told the parish orf'cer that I was their
little girl, and then they went away as fast as they could, and took
me with them."