“P’r’aps I shall,” said Becky wistfully. “I dreamed ever so beautiful last night, that you and me was dancing to the organ in the street—the one as plays ‘Pop goes the Weasel.’ When I woke, I cried a bit, because it wasn’t true. Do you think as it’ll ever come true?”
“Just about,” said Dan, rousing himself to speak with confidence.
“If so be as it does,” continued Becky, “it’ll be along of what the little gentleman at Fieldside did for father. If father hadn’t kept his place, I couldn’t got well, because of paying the doctor and the nourishing things.”
“I think of that a deal too,” said Dan; “it’s all owin’ to him.”
“If there was ever anything we could do to please him,” said Becky, “wouldn’t we be glad! He must be such a very kind little gentleman.”
Dan shook his head decidedly.
“’Tain’t likely,” he said. “He belongs to rich folks, him and his sister. They don’t want nought from the like of us.”
“Well, I’m sorry,” said Becky, with a sigh. “I think over it a deal when I’m alone, and sort of make plans in my head; but, of course, they ain’t real.”
Poor Becky had plenty of opportunity for making plans in her head, for since a year ago she had been alone nearly all day. Before that she had been as gay and lively as the kitten itself, and as fond of play, but one unlucky day she had fallen down some stone steps and hurt her back. All her games were over now: she must lie quite still, Dr Price said, and never run about at all, for a long time. That was a new thing for Becky, who had scarcely known what it was to sit still in her life out of school hours; but her back hurt her so much that she was obliged to give up trying to do all the active things she had been used to, one by one. Her father made her a little couch, and on this in her dark corner she passed many weary hours alone, watching the hands travel round the face of the Dutch clock, and longing for the time for Dan to come home and talk to her. Dan was her chief friend, for though father was very kind, he went early to work, and sometimes came back very late, so that she saw little of him; and as for mother, poor mother went out charing, and was so tired in the evening, that she generally dropped off to sleep directly she had washed up the tea-things.
So Becky’s life was lonely, and often full of pain, which was the harder to bear because she had no companion to cheer her and help her to forget it. She even grew to look forward to Dr Price’s visits, short as they were, for the day did not seem quite so long when he had clattered in with his dogs at his heels, and spoken to her in his loud kind voice. He was a nice gentleman, she thought, though he did not cure the pain in her back. Besides Dr Price there was only Dan, and when on leaving school Dan got a place as gardener’s boy, Becky felt sad as well as pleased, for he would now be away all day.