Papa won't
object, I am almost sure."
"Why, of course he won't. Well?"
"I am going back now to fetch Amy. Mrs. Ashe is to let Ellen, who hasn't
been in the room with the little boy, pack a bagful of clothes and put
it out on the steps, and I shall send Alexander for it by and by. You
can't think how troubled poor Mrs. Ashe was. She couldn't help crying
when she said that Amy was all she had left in the world. And I nearly
cried too, I was so sorry for her. She was so relieved when I said that
we would take Amy. You know she has a great deal of confidence in papa."
"Yes, and in you too. Where will you put Amy to sleep, Katy?"
"What do you think would be best? In Dorry's room?"
"I think she'd better come in here with you, and I'll go into Dorry's
room. She is used to sleeping with her mother, you know, and she would
be lonely if she were left to herself."
"Perhaps that will be better, only it is a great bother for you,
Clovy dear."
"I don't mind," responded Clover, cheerfully. "I rather like to change
about and try a new room once in a while. It's as good as going on a
journey--almost."
She pushed aside the half-finished dress as she spoke, opened a drawer,
took out its contents, and began to carry them across the entry to
Dorry's room, doing everything with the orderly deliberation that was
characteristic of whatever Clover did. Her preparations were almost
complete before Katy returned, bringing with her little Amy Ashe.
Amy was a tall child of eight, with a frank, happy face, and long light
hair hanging down her back.
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