"Little girl, can you tell me the way to Kit's House?"
There was no answer. Mr. Fogo peered more closely.
"Little girl, can you tell me the way to Kit's House?"
Still there was no answer.
"Little girl--"
"_Cl'k--whir-r-r-r-roo-oo _!"
The effect of the alarum was instantaneous.
"Boo-hoo!" yelled the little girl, and broke into a paroxysm of
weeping.
"Little girl--"
"Boo-hoo! Take me home. I want mammy!"
[Illustration: "Boo-hoo! I want mammy!"]
"Dear me," cried Mr. Fogo wildly, "this is the most appalling
situation in which I have ever been placed." He thought of running
away, but his humanity forbade it. At length the alarum ran down;
but the child continued to scream--
"I want mammy! Take me home!"
"Hush! hush! She shall go to mammy--ickle tootsey shall go to mammy.
Did-ums want-ums mammy?" shouted Mr. Fogo, with an idiotic effort to
soothe.
But it was useless. The screams merely increased in volume.
Mr. Fogo, leaning against the hedge, mopped his brow and looked
helplessly around.
"What on earth is to be done?"
There was a sudden sound of light footsteps, and then, to his immense
relief, Tamsin Dearlove stood before him. She looked as fresh and
neat as ever and carried a small basket on her arm.
"Whatever is the matter? Why, 'tis little Susie Clemow! What's the
matter, Susie?" She set down her basket and ran to the child, who
immediately ceased to yell.
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