"It's a lot taken in a lump," replied Seth, upon whose face a more thoughtful expression was gathering, "and a year's a lot, too, Sally." "Is three-and-sixpence a week a lot for a gal's keep?" asked Sally, pursuing her inquiries. "What sort of a girl? One who would make herself handy?" "Oh, yes; and do anythink, never mind what. Clean and scrub, and git up early and light the fire and go of errands----" Thus Sally breathlessly ran on. "But this girl's so small--not strong enough to do all that." "She'd git bigger, and stronger, and older, every day. And you don't know, oh, you don't know what she wouldn't do, if you wanted her to! And she'd be as good as gold." "Then this girl's liable to fainting dead away, without notice----" "She wouldn't do it!" cried Sally, beating her hands together and creeping closer to Seth; "she wouldn't do it, if you didn't want her to!" "--And of falling into trances--" "She'd never do so agin, this gal wouldn't, if you didn't want her to!" "Three-and-sixpence wouldn't go far, Sal, but it's something. What next did Pharaoh say?" "'She's got eighteen pound a year,' says Pharer, 'and she's been obliged to go away from you 'cause she's so poor, and couldn't git nothink to eat; but she's giving somebody three-and-sixpence a week for your keep.'" "Ah, ah, Sally, now we're coming to it." "After that, Pharer looks at baby----" "Saying anything about _her_ keep, Sal?" "Oh, no; there's no need to. _I_ keep _her_, you know; _I_ take care of _her_. I nurse her, and wash her, and dress her, and put her to bed, and she's no trouble to nobody." "Not even to you, Sal, I suppose." "Not to me--oh, no, not to me, 'cause I love her, and she's the beautifullest baby there ever was! Pharer looks at her, and says, 'When baby grows up, she'll be a lady, and 'll have fine clothes, and 'll give everybody money who's been good to her.' That's sure to come true, that is." "Pharaoh says?" "No, _I_ say. It's sure to come true. You mind, now! Whoever's good to baby'll be done good to." "A good Christian sentiment, Sal. And then?" "Then," said Sally abruptly, "Pharer goes away." "Walks away?" "No, flies away, and is swallowed up like. That's all of it." And with her heart beating as fast as if she were in a high state of fever, Sally, whose hand was resting on Seth's knee, waited in the deepest anxiety to learn her fate. Seth put his hand down, and it touched Sally's face. He gave a start as he touched her cheek, which was wet with her tears, fast and silently flowing. "Sally," he said, "you've got a brother." "I'll tell you somethink," rejoined Sally quietly and solemnly; "but you mustn't tell him, or he'd beat me." "I won't tell him, my child." "I don't think," sobbed Sally, "as he's any good." "Why?"