generally meant that she was making a new story. But this time she was not, and she shook her head.
“No,” she answered. “I am wondering what I ought to do.”
Becky stared—still respectfully. She was filled with something approaching reverence for everything Sara did and said.
“I can’t help thinking about my friend,” Sara explained. “If he wants to keep himself a secret, it would be rude to try and find out who he is. But I do so want him to know how thankful I am to him—and how happy he has made
came in to see her fellow prisoner and bring her news.
“It’s a’ Nindian gentleman that’s comin’ to live next door, miss,” she said. “I don’t know whether he’s a black gentleman or not, but he’s a Nindian one. He’s very rich, an’ he’s ill, an’ the gentleman of the Large Family is his lawyer. He’s had