"No, miss; very glad. It's time I was of use."
"You are of use. You carry me quite beautiful. I do not ache so much while you carry me. But—don't you love your own mamma?"
"That I do, Miss Flo. I love them all."
"Tell me about them. How many brothers and sisters have you?"
Hetty told her, making a long story of it, such as children love. In her pleasure at finding that she could amuse the child, she wandered on and on, until she heard Mrs. Eyre calling her.
"Do not go out of sight," said she again.
"No, ma'am," replied Hetty. But when next Mrs. Eyre looked for her, she was out of sight again. However, she was back very soon, and Mrs. Eyre did not like to be always finding fault. At one o'clock they set off for home, calling for Lina on their way.
Mrs. Eyre and the children had their dinner in the parlour, and Mrs. Goodenough and Hetty had theirs in the kitchen. Then Mrs. Goodenough, having washed up everything and made up the kitchen fire, put on her bonnet and went away.
Hetty sat alone in the neat little kitchen, wondering what she was to do next. From this subject of meditation she passed to that of her solitary sixpence, which, little as it may seem, was the largest sum of money Hetty had ever had at one time. And Mrs. Hardy had been wise in not giving her any, even though Mr. Ned, in his great wisdom, did not think so; for she knew of old that even a halfpenny would burn in Hetty's pocket till she could get out to spend it. Now to do that she must get out by herself, and that was just what her mother and Matty did not wish for her.
Meantime Mrs. Eyre had been well pleased to hear, from little Flo, that Hetty had carried her most comfortably, and had amused her with plenty of innocent chatter. She came down to the kitchen presently, and began collecting such things as she required for some cookery she meant to get done.