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Updated: May 8, 2025
We must search elsewhere, and lose no time about it." It was Arthur Kirtland's voice, and scrambling to their feet, they ran to greet him, all fear left behind. "Oh, Mr. Kirtland, we ARE here," cried Rose. "And we've been here just almost FOREVER," Polly added. "And, oh, here's John!" cried Rose. "Now we can go home!"
She put aside her hat and shawl, unrolled her parcel of sewing-work, and sat down by the little lamp at one end of the room with Miss Pray. She took in my presence naturally, with no obtrusive kindness; she was at a necessitous task putting a broad gray patch, the best available from the resources at home, on Jimmy Kirtland's brown jacket, doing it deftly with her supple hands.
It's about half past six, or so, now, 'm, an' ye've just reached home. I can't make out how ye missed them, but I think I'll go over ter Mr. Kirtland's house, and if he isn't out ter some reception, like he often is, I'll ask the loan of his key, and with the gardener, I'll hunt there first. I believe they're there." Aunt Lois, now really wild with anxiety, could only say: "Go, at once.
The sight of Dan Kirtland's low, brown cottage, the squalid babies in the doorway, the fishing-nets, Vesty's last week's cotton gown swinging on the line, some humiliating, harsh memories of her own, spurred her on, with a sigh. "She is fire, thank God! It will be all right," she said. Vesty drew back into the woods. She pressed her forehead hard against the rough bark of a tree.
Have you seen Rose, or her friend Polly around here this afternoon? "They went down town with Rose's aunt to Mr. Kirtland's studio," shouted Lester. "Here, Jack, pitch decently, will you?" "Look here, young feller! This ain't no joke. Quit playin' ball long 'nough ter hear what I say. They're lost, those two little girls are. They haven't come home!"
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