"Poor little deary! Little wanderin' lamb!" he muttered once or twice, as he looked about the room, and then with his disengaged hand pulled the coverlid from his own bed.
Esther, following his directions, opened the cupboard door, cleared a vacant space on the floor, and, with the slight materials at her disposal, made as good a bed as was possible under the circumstances. Job watched the operation gravely.
"Maybe it's hard," he said. "I'd give her a better place if I could, but I hasn't a better. Why, if she ain't asleep already! Well, 'twill be better for her there than down on the stairs landin'. Will ye take off the bit of a ragged frock from the poor lamb, Mrs. Forsyth?"
Esther willingly lifted the child from his arms, and carried her to the tiny closet, where there was just room for the small improvised bed, and one person to stand beside it. In a minute or two she opened the door again, and beckoned Job.
"There! She'll sleep as peaceful as peaceful can be," said Esther. "It's a kind man ye are to help the poor little thing, Mr. Kippis. We haven't a corner ourselves to offer her, or we'd do it."
"Sure enough you would, but you've all them children, and I not a chick o' my own," Job said. "Aye, she'll sleep sound enough. Don't she look happy?"
"I'm so glad it was you as found her," murmured Lettie. "Ain't you, Hor?"
"Ain't I just?" responded Hor. "To think of her starvin' under the stairs all that while. What 'll ye do with her to-morrow, Mr. Kippis?"
"Come 'n ask me that question on the morrow, boy," responded Job. "I'll be glad to see any of ye. I'm sleepy now myself. Thank ye for your help, Mrs. Forsyth."
They took the hint and withdrew.