Eloise's hot little hand clung tightly to Sally's on the long trip of inspection of her new "home." But her cry, hopeless and monotonous now, even taking on a little of the institutional whine, was still the same heartbroken protest she had uttered upon her arrival in the dormitory: "I don't want to be an orphan! I don't want to be an orphan, Sal-lee!"
"It ain't--I mean, isn't--so bad," Sally comforted her. "Sometimes we have lots of fun. And Christmas is awf'ly nice. Every girl gets an orange and a little sack of candy and a present. And we have turkey for dinner, and ice cream."
"My mama gave me candy every day," Eloise whimpered. "Her men friends brung it to her--boxes and boxes of it, and flowers, too. God was mean to let her die, and make an orphan outa me!"
And because Sally herse