nine years old. She was quite colourless, but she was not crying. Her
eyes still had the look of terror that the sight of the works had called
up in them, and she started at every sound. Laura was kneeling beside
her, trying to make her drink some tea. The child kept pushing the tea
away, but her other hand held fast to Laura's arm. On the further side of
the table sat two elderly women.

"Laura, there's only just time!" said Polly softly, putting her head
through the door.

The child started painfully, and the cup Laura held was with difficulty
saved from falling.

Laura stooped and kissed the little one's cheek.

"Dear, will you let me go now? Mrs. Dixon will take care of you--and I'll
come and see you again soon."

Nelly began to breathe fast. She caught Laura's sleeve with both hands.

"Don't you go, Miss--I'll not stay with her." She nodded towards her
landlady.

"Now, Nelly, you must be a good girl," said Mrs. Dixon, rising and coming
forward--she was a strange, ugly woman, with an almost bald head--"you
must do what your poor papa wud ha wished you to do. Let the lady go, an
I'll take care on you same as one o' my own, till they can come and take
you to the House."

"Oh! don't say that!" cried Laura.