h Street: once upon a
time, but that was long ago, quite a fashionable quarter. The house,
together with Mrs. Travers, had been left him by a maiden aunt. An
"apartment" would, of course, have been more suitable to a bachelor of
simple habits, but the situation was convenient from a journalistic
point of view, and for fifteen years Abner Herrick had lived and worked
there.

Then one evening, after a three days' absence, Abner Herrick returned
to West Twentieth Street, bringing with him a little girl wrapped up in
a shawl, and a wooden box tied with a piece of cord. He put the box on
the table; and the young lady, loosening her shawl, walked to the
window and sat down facing the room.

Mrs. Travers took the box off the table and put it on the floor--it was
quite a little box--and waited.

"This young lady," explained Abner Herrick, "is Miss Ann Kavanagh,
daughter of--of an old friend of mine."

"Oh!" said Mrs. Travers, and remained still expectant.

"Miss Kavanagh," continued Abner Herrick, "will be staying with us
for--" He appeared to be uncertain of the length of Miss Kavanagh's
visit. He left the sentence unfinished and took refuge in more
pressing questions.

"What about the bedroom on the second floor? Is it ready? Sheets
aired--all that sort of thing?"

"It can be," replied Mrs. Travers. The tone was suggestive of judgment
reserved.

"I think, if you don't mind, Mrs. Travers, that we'd like to go to bed
as soon as possible." From force of habit Abner S. Herrick in speaking
employed as a rule the editorial "we." "We have been travelling all
day and we are very tired. To-morrow morning--"

"I'd like some supper," said Miss Kavanagh from her seat in the window,
without moving.

"Of course," agreed Miss Kavanagh's host, with a feeble pretence that
the subject had been on the tip of his tongue. As a matter of fact, he
really had forgotten all about it. "We might have it up here while the
room is being got ready. Perhaps a little--"

"A soft boiled egg and a glass of milk, if you please, Mrs. Travers,"
interrupted Miss Kavanagh, still from her seat at the window.

"I'll see about it," said Mrs. Travers, and went out, taking the quite
small box with her.

Such was the coming into this story of Ann Kavanagh at the age of eight
years; or, as Miss Kavanagh herself would have explained, had the
question been put to her, eight years and seven months, for Ann
Kavanagh was a precise young lady. S