Martha freed herself from the clinging fingers and pressed forward.  “A child—­Miss Claire’s such a little thing, no wonder they think she’s a child,” she murmured.  “True for you, my good woman, God help the poor mother!”

“You know her?”

“I know Miss Claire.”

For some reason the crowd made way, and let her through to the very heart of it, and there—­sure enough, there was Claire, but Claire crying and kneeling over an outstretched little form, lying unconscious on the pavement.

“Why, it’s—­my Francie!” said Martha quietly.

CHAPTER X

Through all the days of suspense and doubt, Claire swung like a faithful little pendulum between home, the Shermans, and the hospital.

Then, as hope strengthened, she was the bearer of gifts, flowers, fruit, toys from Mr. Ronald and his sister, which Martha acknowledged in her own characteristic fashion.

“Tell’m the Slawson fam’ly is bound to be in it. It seems it’s the whole style for ladies to go under a operation, an’ as I ain’t eggsackly got the time, Francie, she’s keepin’ up the tone for us.  If you wanter folla the fashions these days, you got to gather your skirts about you, tight as they are, an’ run.  But what’s a little inconvenience, compared with knowin’ you’re cuttin’ a dash!

“Tell’m I thank’m, an’ tell Lor’—­Mister Ronald, it’s good of’m to be tryin’ to get damages for Francie out o’ the auta that run her down, an’ if there was somethin’ comin’ to us to pay the doctors an’ suchlike, it’d be welcome.  But, somehow, I always was shy o’ monkeyin’ with the law.  It’s like to catch a body in such queer places, where you’d least expect.  Before a fella knows it, he’s up for liable, or breaches o’ promise, an’ his private letters to the bosom of his fam’ly (which nowadays they’re mostly ruffles), his letters to the bosom of his fam’ly is read out loud in court, an’ then printed in the papers next mornin’, an’ everybody’s laughin’ at’m, because he called his wife ‘My darlin’ Tootsie,’ which she never been accustomed to answer to anythin’ but the name o’ Sarah.  An’ it’s up to him to pay the costs, when ten to one it’s the other party’s to blame.  I guess p’raps we better leave good enough alone.  If we begin to get the l’yers after us, no tellin’ where we’ll end.  Who knows but they might find the accident injured the auto, ’stead o’ Francie.  If we work hard, an’ they give us time, me an’ Sammy can, maybe, make out to pay the doctors.  But add to that, to have to buy a brand-new machine for the fella that run over Francie—­that’d be sorter discouragin’.”

She paused, and Claire began to pull on her gloves.

“By the way,” said Martha, “how’s things down to the Shermans’?  Seems like a hunderd years since I was there.  The las’ time I laid eyes on Eliza, she was in excellent spirits—­I seen the bottle.  I wonder if she’s still—­very still, takin’ a sly nip on the side, as she calls it, which means a sly nip off the sideboard.  You can take it from me, if she don’t let up, before she knows it she’ll be a teetotal wrack.”