pad fell from Mr. Ransom's hands. He stared at the girl
who had made this astonishing statement, and his brain whirled.

As for her, she simply stooped and picked up the pad.

"You feel badly about that," said she. "You want me to read. I'll learn.
That will make me more like sister. But I know some things now. I know
what you are thinking about. You are curious about my life, what it has
been and what kind of a girl I am. I'll tell you. I can talk if I cannot
hear. I heard up to two years ago. Shall I talk now? Shall I tell you
what I told Georgian when she found me crying in the street and took me
home to her house?"

He nodded blindly.

With a smile as beautiful as Georgian's--for a moment he thought more
beautiful--she drew him to a seat. She was all fire and purpose now. The
spark of intelligence which was not always visible in her eye burned
brightly. She would have looked lovely even to a stranger, but he was not
thinking of her looks, only of the hopelessness of the situation, its
difficulties and possibly its perils.

"I don't remember all that has happened to me," she began, speaking very
fast. "I never tried to remember, when I was little; I just lived, and
ran wild in the roads and woods like the weasels and the chipmunks. The
gipsies were good to me. I had not a cross word in years. The wife of the
king was my friend, and all I knew I learned from her. It was not much,
but it helped me to live in the forest and be happy, as long as I was a
little girl. When I grew up it was different. It was the king who was
kind then, and the woman who was fierce. I didn't like his kindness, but
she didn't know this, for after one day when she caught him staring at me
across the fire, she sent me off after something she wanted in a small
town we were camping near, and when I came back with it, the band was
gone. I tried to follow, but it was dark and I didn't know the way;
besides I was afraid--afraid of him. So I crept back to the town and
slept in the straw of a barn I found open. Next day I sold my earrings
and got bread. It didn't last long and I tried to work, but that meant
sleeping under a roof, and houses smothered me, so I did my work badly
and was turned out. Then I sold my ring. It was my last trinket, and when
the few cents I got for it were gone, I wandered about hungry. This I was
used to and didn't mind at first, but at last I went to work again, and
I did better now for a little while, till one evening