"Well, now, we can play I'm a good sprite out of the box, or, what
is better, a fairy godmother come down the chimney, and you are
Cinderella, and must say what you want," said Rose, trying to put
the question delicately.
Phebe understood that, for she had a good deal of natural
refinement, though she did come from the poor-house.
"I don't feel as if I wanted anything now, Miss Rose, but to find
some way of thanking you for all you've done," she said, rubbing
off a tear that went rolling down the bridge of her nose in the most
unromantic way.
"Why, I haven't done anything but given you a bit of candy! Here,
have some more, and eat 'em while you work, and think what I can
do. I must go and clear up, so good-bye, and don't forget I've
adopted you."
"You've given me sweeter things than candy, and I'm not likely to
forget it." And carefully wiping off the brick-dust, Phebe pressed
the little hand Rose offered warmly in both her hard ones, while
the black eyes followed the departing visitor with a grateful look
that made them very soft and bright.
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