"Her--off the stage, to look after this! Her, that's kicked up her heels
for a living! It's--no, she's no good. She's common. She's come, and
she can go. I ain't having sweepings from the streets living here as if
they had rights."

Aunt Kate set her lips.

"Sweepings! You've got to take that back, Abel. It's not Christian.
You've got to take that back."

"He'll take it back all right before we've done, I guess," remarked Black
Andy. "He'll take a lot back."

"Truth's truth, and I'll stand by it, and--"

The old man stopped, for there came to them now, clearly, the sound of
sleigh bells. They all stood still for an instant, silent and attentive,
then Aunt Kate moved towards the door.

"Cassy's come," she said. "Cassy and George's boy've come."

Another instant and the door was opened on the beautiful, white,
sparkling world, and the low sleigh, with its great warm buffalo robes,
in which the small figures of a woman and a child were almost lost,
stopped at the door. Two whimsical but tired eyes looked over a rim of
fur at the old woman in the doorway, then Cassy's voice rang out.

"Hello, that's Aunt Kate, I know! Well, here we are, and here's my boy.
Jump, George!"