She had two braids of lank , thick , tow-coloured hair and very odd eyes -- `` white eyes , '' the manse children thought , as she stared at them half defiantly , half piteously . They were really of so pale a blue that they did seem almost white , especially when contrasted with the narrow black ring that circled the iris . She was barefooted and bareheaded , and was clad in a faded , ragged , old plaid dress , much too short and tight for her . As for years , she might have been almost any age , judging from her wizened little face , but her height seemed to be somewhere in the neighbourhood of twelve . `` Who are you ? '' asked Jerry . The girl looked about her as if seeking a way of escape . Then she seemed to give in with a little shiver of despair . `` I 'm Mary Vance , '' she said . `` Where 'd you come from ? '' pursued Jerry . Mary , instead of replying , suddenly sat , or fell , down on the hay and began to cry . Instantly Faith had flung herself down beside her and put her arm around the thin , shaking shoulders . `` You stop bothering her , '' she commanded Jerry . Then she hugged the waif . `` Do n't cry , dear . Just tell us what 's the matter . WE 'RE friends . '' `` I 'm so -- so -- hungry , '' wailed Mary . `` I -- I hai n't had a thing to eat since Thursday morning , ` cept a little water from the brook out there . ''
The manse children gazed XXXXX each other in horror .
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