With infinite tenderness, Ann led Flea into the pretty blue bedroom. The girl drew back with an exclamation.
"It's too nice for a squatter! But I'm glad you put Fluke in that red place, 'cause it looks so warm and feels warm. But me--"
Ann interrupted hastily.
"You remember my brother saying that you were going to stay here with us until your brother was well?"
Flea assented.
"Then, as long as you are with us, you will be our guest just as though you were my sister. Would you like to be my sister?"
Flea dropped her gaze before the earnest eyes.
"Yep!" she choked. "But I'm a squatter, Missus, and squatters don't count for nothin'. But Fluke--"
"Poor child! She can't think of anyone but her brother," Miss Shellington murmured to herself.
But Flea caught the words.
"He's so good--oh, so awful good--and he ain't never had no chance with Pappy Lon. If he gets well, we'll work together, and we won't steal nothin' ever no more."
"I feel positive you won't," assured Ann. "You remember, I told you tonight how very good God is to all His children, and you are a child of His, and you know that the Bible says that you must never take anything that doesn't belong to you."
"Nope, I ain't never seen no Bible," faltered Flea.
"Then I'm going to give you one, and you can learn to read it. Wouldn't you be happy if your brother should get well, and you knew that your prayers had done it?"
"It wouldn't be me, Ma'm; 'twould be you and your brother."
Ann considered how she should best begin to open the young mind to truth.
"Child, would you like me to tell you a story?" she asked presently.
"Yep," replied Flea eagerly. "Is it about fairies, or ghosts, or goblins what live near lakes?"
"No; it's about Jesus, who died to save the world."
Then gently and simply Ann told the story of the Passion to the wondering girl, and shortly after left her to sleep.
Miss Shellington went to her brother's study, and he met her with a quizzical smile.
"You've woven a net about yourself, Sis, haven't you?" said he.
"And about you, too, Dear," Ann retorted. "But, Horace, I shouldn't have thought of keeping them, if you hadn't consented."
She looked so troubled, her brow puckered up in thought, that he smiled again.