But she _must_ say something! She had come here
for a purpose--to know Susy.
At that moment Susy's voice pealed out in a merry, piping laugh--because
she had put her small finger into her cookie and pulled out a fat round
currant! And something in the laugh touched the spark to the mothering
instinct strong in Robin's young heart--the mothering instinct that had
caused her bitter anguish over Cynthia's loss, that had taught her how
to care for her Jimmie, and had given her strength to run away from her
Jimmie that he might have his "chance." She forgot the dirty
surroundings, the old Granny in her rags and her crown of wispy gray
hair, she saw only the child's face, lightened with joy, and laughed
with Susy as Susy held out the currant on the end of an uplifted--and
very dirty--finger.
The ice broken, Susy made friends quickly. She leaned her thin little
self against Robin's knee and stared with rapture into Robin's face.
Like Granny she could not seem to realize that Robin was a Forsyth; to
her she was "a big girl" and big girls did not come to the house now
that Sarah had died. She timidly touched Robin's soft coat sleeve with a
rough, sticky hand and poked at the bright buttons of Robin's blouse,
her eyes round with wonder.
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