And poor father, too—not twenty-four hours dead. Ailie's little heart swelled and ached at the thought of him, and of that short midnight waking, which seemed now so very far away. How she wondered if the story told by Esther had come true, and if he had been remembered—by—Ailie did not exactly know whom. She had been brought up in such utter ignorance, that she knew scarcely more than the Name of God. She had never heard the Name of Jesus till it fell from the lips of Esther in her hearing.
Still, she knew her father had feared something, had wanted something, had asked to be remembered by some one, and she wondered much if he had had his wish, and how he could have had it. Ailie wished some one would remember her. Not the Forsyths; she only wanted to keep out of their way. But some rich kind person—if such a person would come and look after poor little Ailie, and give her plenty to eat, and let her stay where she was till mother came back, and give her a clean frock, instead of these rags—oh, how nice it would be!
Not much hope of all that, but it soothed Ailie to sit and fancy it. It made her forget her hunger and thirst for a while. And, in the middle of her fancying, she fell asleep, and dreamt that little Lettie came running up, and took her by the hand to lead her away. Ailie was frightened at first, and tried to draw back, but Lettie pulled her forward, and then took her a long walk, through many streets, till Ailie was footsore and weary, and wanted to rest. But all at once they stood before a door, which somebody opened, and Ailie found herself in a bright room, with nicely-dressed ladies smiling on her, and a long table covered with tea and bread and butter and cake. And then, just as a great plateful was set before Ailie, and she was going to begin to eat, the table and the ladies and the room faded away, and Ailie woke to find herself in her dark dusty corner, more hungry than ever.
How bitterly poor Ailie sobbed to herself, and how she did wish that she had slept a little longer, so that she might at least have dreamt that her hunger was satisfied!
[CHAPTER V.]
STARVING.
"HOR," said little Lettie meditatively, on the afternoon of the following day, "don't you wonder what's become of Ailie?"
Hor had just returned from his daily ramble in search of employment. Little hope had he now of finding regular work—he had tried so long in vain; but still he contrived to earn a few pence in various ways, and those who had once employed him did not soon forget his honest look. To-day he had returned earlier than usual, and, after depositing his earnings with his mother, went out into the yard. There he found Lettie, seated on a corner of the broken-down wall, overlooking the three little ones, who made high glee with a mud puddle near at hand.