She rose with great dignity from her
chair, and was about to address herself vehemently to Tony, when old
Oliver interrupted her.
"Charlotte," he said, "the boy's a good boy, and he's a help to me. I
couldn't send him away. He's one of the Lord's poor little ones as are
scattered up and down in this great city, without father or mother, and I
must do all I can for him. It isn't much; it's only a bed under the
counter, and a crust now and then, and he more than pays for it. You
musn't come betwixt me and Tony."
Old Oliver spoke so emphatically, that his sister was impressed and
silenced for a minute. She took the little girl away from Tony, and
glared at him with a sternness which made him feel very uncomfortable;
but her eye softened a little, and her face grew less harsh.
"You can't read or write?" she said, in a sharp voice.
"No," he answered.
"And you've not got any manners, or boots, or a cap on your head. You are
ragged and ignorant, and not fit to live with this little girl," she
continued, with energy. "If this little girl's mother saw her going about
with a boy in bare feet and a bare head, it 'ud break her heart I know.
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