Then her father came in, and seizing her by the arm hurried her out of the room and across the platform to the brightly-lighted train drawn up there.

He gave her no time for farewells to the kind-hearted woman who had helped her so much, nor did he thank her himself.

Poor Jessie could only look back over her shoulder and try to thank her with her eyes and smiles.
"Thank you very much," she called out, her voice sounding very weak and small in the midst of all the uproar; but the gratitude on her face and in her eyes spoke more than words.
"I've thought dozens of times of that poor little child," the woman remarked next day to one of the porters; "the man looked so cruel and horrid, and the child so frightened.

I should like to know the truth about them.

I am sure he was unkind to her." Once inside the railway carriage, Jessie's father put her to sit in the corner by the window, and seated himself next to her.