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Updated: October 16, 2025
Mac Clarke," said Nance, despite Birdie's warning glance. A swift look of intelligence swept the dazed old face; then terror gathered in his eyes. "Not not Macpherson Clarke?" he stammered; then he sat down in the doorway. "O my God!" he sobbed, dropping his head in his hands. "He won't go home 'til morning!" hummed Monte, catching Birdie by the arm and skipping down the passage.
"Well, I wonder if you don't want to do me a favor?" she coaxed. "Find out if Mac Clarke's been here, or is going to be here. I got to see him on particular business." "He's up in the office now," said Dan; then he added bluntly "Where did you ever know Mac Clarke?" Birdie's large, white lids fluttered a moment. "I come to see him for a friend of mine," she said.
She had felt dubious about her costume, but now that she was reassured, she began to imitate Birdie's tone and manner as she explained to Mrs. Purdy the object of her visit. "Deary me!" said Mrs. Purdy, "Dan's quite right. We can't allow a nice little girl like you to work in a glass factory! We must find some nice genteel place for you. Let me see." In order to see Mrs.
Mabbe you're playin' with me; but, whether you are or not, I guess it won't make much difference what I say. You couldn't help me if you wanted to now with him dead there" he jerked his head toward the form on the floor. "Tell me, anyhow," insisted Jimmie Dale quietly. Birdie's hand lifted and swept across his eyes. "Well, all right," he said, after a moment; "I'll tell you.
During the early part of the afternoon the girls shortened one of Birdie's dresses and tacked in its folds to fit Nance's slender figure. Birdie worked in fits and starts; she listened every time anything stopped in the street below, and made many trips to the window. By and by her easy good humor gave place to irritability.
"A spade or a pickaxe is rather too much for you to handle, my laddie," he answered, "but you shall have a hoe, which will be big enough to dig a little birdie's grave." Norman having obtained the tool hurried back with it to the yard, where he found Fanny, who had got the cart ready.
"You can't tell," said Birdie. "What do they care about engagements? We are nothing but dirt to them just dirt under their old patent-leather pumps!" This bitterness on Birdie's part was so different from her customary superiority where men were concerned, that Nance gasped. "If they do come," continued Birdie vindictively, "you just watch me teach Mac Clarke a thing or two.
To be sure, Nance dreamed she heard it the following day at noon, and sprang up in bed with the terrifying conviction that she would be late at Miss Bobinet's. But when she saw where she was, she gave a sigh of relief, and snuggled down against Birdie's warm shoulder, and tried to realize what had happened to her.
His mother's bitter anger, so sure to follow the cold, haughty mother, who never forgot or forgave an injury, and his little sister Birdie's sorrow were at that moment quite forgotten even if they had been remembered they would have weighed as naught compared with his lovely little Daisy with the golden hair and eyes of blue looking up at him so trustingly.
"But what else is left to do?" "Swear you won't tell?" Nance crossed her heart with a floury finger. "I'm going to be a actress," said Birdie. It was fortunate for Nance that Birdie's term at the home soon ended.
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