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The little attic room

           "Breadandmilk,indeed! andwhenthepoorlambhain’tonlyjustcriedherselftosleep,"shewasmutteringfiercely,asshesoftlypushedopenthedoor. Thenextmomentshegaveafrightenedcry. "Whereareyou? Where’veyougone? WhereHAVEyougone?"shepanted,lookinginthecloset,underthebed,andeveninthetrunkanddownthewaterpitcher. Thensheflewdown-stairsandouttoOldTominthegarden. 

           "Mr.Tom,Mr.Tom,thatblessedchild’sgone,"shewailed. "She’svanishedrightupintoHeavenwhereshecomefrom,poorlambandmetoldtergiveherbreadandmilkinthekitchenherwhat’seatin’angelfoodthisminute,I’llwarrant,I’llwarrant!" 

           Theoldmanstraightenedup. 

           "Gone?Heaven?"herepeatedstupidly,unconsciouslysweepingthebrilliantsunsetskywithhisgaze. Hestopped,staredamomentintently,thenturnedwithaslowgrin. "Well,Nancy,itdolooklikeasifshe’dtriedtergetasnighHeavenasshecould,andthat’safact,"heagreed,pointingwithacrookedfingertowhere,sharplyoutlinedagainstthereddeningsky,aslender,wind-blownfigurewaspoisedontopofahugerock. 

           "Well,sheain’tgoin’terHeaventhatwayter-nightnotifIhasmysay,"declaredNancy,doggedly. "Ifthemistressasks,tellherIain’tfurgettin’thedishes,butIgoneonastroll,"sheflungbackoverhershoulder,asshespedtowardthepaththatledthroughtheopenfield. 

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Roboto Lora
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