“You mustn’t be noisy when a gentleman’s here; and, besides, you’ve got on your Sunday frock. Tell Mr. Solent your name and where you live. Mr. Solent doesn’t like noisy little girls, or little girls that talk all the time and interrupt people.”

“I live at Number Eighty-Five North Street Ramsgard,” repeated the child hurriedly. “I was eleven last Thursday. Grandfather keeps the school hat-shop. Mother went away when I was born. Miss Gault is my greatest friend. Aunt Mattie is my mother now. I like the white cat best!”

The child uttered these sentences as if they had been a lesson which she had learned by heart. She stood obediently by Selena Gault’s side; but her dark eyes fixed themselves upon Wolf with an expression that he never afterwards forgot, so wild, so mocking, so rebellious, and yet so appealing did it seem.