"I knew you would do this, if you could, so I have brought all their clothes. I must get back to Liverpool; the steamer sails on Thursday, early."
"Then you can stay here to-night. Do you think I'm going to let you travel back to-night, and you looking so tired and worn? No, no, stay for the night, and you'll see where the little darlings are to sleep, and how comfortable I shall make them; as well I may, remembering all your kindness to me, and how you nursed me when I was ill."
Her cordiality increased as she thought over the hotel project, and considered how pleasant it would be, when all was comfortably settled, to rejoin her stepson in Gattigo. Life at Kelmersdale was very dull to a woman whose idea of enjoying herself meant much gossip and many sociable tea-parties.
"I will stay, as you are so kind," Janet said, yet in her heart she wished she had the courage to go, and have the parting over.
Maria, a good-natured girl, with very little to do, seemed rather pleased at the prospect of a visit from the children, and said that the last housekeeper had a niece who used to stay with her for months at a time. There was a turret-room, six-sided, at the end of the passage on which Mrs. Rayburn's rooms opened, and this was got ready for the boys. Janet unpacked and arranged their clothes herself; and at night she tucked them up in an old-fashioned little bedstead, with a high back of carved wood. Conspicuous among the carving was an earl's coronet, which had once been gilded; I suppose some baby Earl of Beaucourt had once slept in the bed which now held poor Janet's boys. They slept as sweetly as any earl, and even Janet slept, worn out.
Next day, Janet said she must catch the train for Liverpool, which was due at Rugeley at a little after eleven. She had still a good deal of packing to do, some things to buy which she would want on the passage, and she must go to the school the boys had attended and pay what was due there.
She would not take the boys to Rugeley with her. When Jacob and the taxcart came to the door, she kissed Mrs. Rayburn, and whispered—
"Be—be tender with them. They have never had a harsh word. Frank will give you no trouble, and if Fred is not quite so good, oh! Have patience with him, he is but a baby. Good-bye, and thank you for all your kindness."
Then she knelt down on the stone floor of the hall, and held her boys to her heart for a few moments. Fred set up a lamentable howl, but Frank only gazed at his mother with wide eyes and a pale face. Janet rose, and walked hurriedly out into the porch; Jacob helped her into the cart, and in a moment they were gone.
"Come back, come back, muddie!" shouted Fred; "Take me wif you. I won't stay here."