"So this is the way," she said gruffly, "when I sends you out, Rag, to pick
up somethin' you eat me out o' house an' home with brats you bring in"; for
she hadn't seen through the dirt on Phronsie's face and clothes what manner
of child was present.

The Dukess twitched off the nightcap, and sprang up, upsetting the tin
coffeepot, which rolled away by itself, and put herself over by Phronsie,
covering her from view. In passing, she had grasped the doll off from the
barrel and hidden her in the folds of her tattered gown with a quick, sharp
thrust.

"'Tain't nothin' 'f I do have some fun once in a while, Gran," she
grumbled. She pinched Phronsie's arm. "Keep still." And while the old woman
swayed across the room, for she wasn't quite free from the effects of a
taste from a bottle under her arm, which she couldn't resist trying before
she reached home, Phronsie and Rag were working their way over toward the
door.

"Stop!" roared the old woman at them, in a fury, and she held up the
nightcap. Involuntarily Rag paused, through sheer force of habit, and stood
paralyzed, till her grandmother had come quite close.

"Hey, what have we got here?" She eyed Phronsie sharply. "Oh, well, you
ain't acted so badly after all; maybe the pretty little lady has come to
see me, hey?" and she seized Phronsie's small arm.

"Gran," cried Rag hoarsely, waking up from her unlucky paralysis, "let her
go; only let her go, an' I'll--I'll do anythin' you want me to. I'll steal,
an' pick an' fetch, and do anything Gran."