Then, before he could stop her, she sprang out upon the ladder, and went
down faster than she had come up, leaving the pail of cherries upon the
window-sill, and leaving, too, in Arthur's breast a tumult of emotions
which he could not define.
That night, when Frank, who had heard in much alarm of Jerry's visit to
his brother, went up to see him, he found him more cheerful and natural
than he had seen him in weeks. As Frank expected, his first words were
of the little girl who had come to him through the window and left him
the cherries, of which he said he had eaten so many that he feared they
might make him sick. What did Frank know of the child? What had he
learned of her history? Of course he had made enquiries everywhere?
It was just in the twilight, before the gas was lighted, and so Arthur
did not see how his brother's face flamed at first and then grew white
as he recapitulated what the reader already knows, dwelling at length
upon the enquiries he had made in New York, all of which had been
fruitless. There was the name Jerrine on the child's clothing, he said
and the initials 'N.B.' on that of her mother, who was evidently French,
although she must have come from Germany.'
'Yes,' Arthur replied, 'the child is a German, and interests me greatly.
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