"Mother, it's Ailie! It's Ailie! I'm so glad!" cried Lettie.
"Where did you find her?" asked Hor, much interested.
"Down on the stairs, lyin' curled up in a corner," said Job.
"Oh, is she dead?" asked Lettie fearfully, as she looked at the sunken face, lying across Job Kippis's arm.
But Ailie opened her eyes.
"Not she,—and ain't going to die, please God," said Job reverently. "It's something to eat she wants, an' I've plenty up in my house. Come along, and see her feed, if ye like."
Not Esther alone, but Hor and Lettie too accepted this invitation. Job went up, taking the lead, till he reached his room, when he sat down on the three-legged chair, the place of the absent leg being supplied by the corner of the bedstead.
"Now we'll give her some bread, to rouse her up," said Job, glancing at the loaf on the table. "That's it—a mouthful at a time. Why I thought she'd eat it, so I did," went on the old man encouragingly, as the black eyes brightened and begged for more. "Not too fast, deary—it's bad, after fastin', to eat too much an' too quick. Poor little 'un! No one to look after her, was there?"
"I wonder where she's been?" said Hor, and his mother took up the inquiry, while putting another piece of bread between the parched lips—
"Where did ye make away wi' yourself, Ailie?"