"What are ye thinkin' of doin' with her?" asked John, putting the oft asked and, as yet, unanswered question.
A twitch of Job's coat spoke plainly enough as to Ailie's state of mind, even without the imploring:
"Oh, please—"
"What d'ye advise?" asked Job.
"Work'us," said John.
"Please," sobbed Ailie, with another stronger twitch.
"There, there, wait a bit, deary," said Job soothingly; and, returning to his stitching, he remarked, "She don't seem over-willin' to go."
"A scrap of a child like that! Don't know nothin' about it," said John tersely. "Send her off, and she'll do, never fear."
"Poor little deary!" murmured Job. "It's hard, ain't it, for her?"
"Look ye here," said Forsyth. "I've a wife an' five children o' my own, an' one not my own, as I took up an' 'dopted five years since, when I wasn't in my present circumstances. So long as I've a crumb to spare, I ain't a-going to cast her off. But I ain't a-going to 'dopt a second, I can tell ye. Six is enough for a man, who's been nigh upon three months out o' work."