A tall blonde whose thoughtful blue eyes had been studying the
forewoman's face, laid her hand on the excited girl's arm, remarking
gently:
"Let's not judge too hastily, Speckles dear. I think Miss Merton has
something to tell us. For my part I used to pity Julie, she seemed so
weak and sickly and so terribly alone. She was with us but she was not
one of us."
"Pity your grandmother," cried Speckles the irrepressible. "If she was
alone all the time, it was her own fault. She was a stuck-up old thing
and wouldn't make friends with any of us. If you'd speak to her she'd
only stare at you with those fierce black eyes of hers and answer yes or
no just as short and snappy as you please."
"I doubt if we tried very hard, any of us, to win her friendship, the
poor little thing. And she did seem so forlorn and lonely at times,"
answered the blonde. "But there, girls, let's all keep quiet if we can
for I know Miss Merton has something to tell us."
"You are right, Louise, I have a little story to tell you, the story of
Julie Benoit," and she told them Julie's story as she had heard it from
Julie herself. In conclusion, she added: "When I left that poor child
beside her dead mother, I went at once to the superintendent and told
him the whole story. You girls know how kind he is; many of you have had
personal experience of his charity.
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