He laid his head upon her shoulder, and Nell soothed him with gentle and tender words, and smiled at his thinking they could ever part. He was soon calmed, and fell asleep, singing to himself in a low voice like a little child.
He awoke refreshed, and they went on their way once more. The road was pleasant, lying between beautiful pastures and fields of corn, above which the lark trilled out its happy song. The air came laden with the fragrance it caught upon its way, and the bees hummed forth their drowsy song as they floated by.
They were now in the open country; the houses were very few, and often miles apart. Now and again they came upon a cluster of poor cottages, some with a chair or low board put across the open door, to keep the children from the road, others shut up close while all the family were working in the fields.
They walked all day, and slept at night at a small cottage where beds were let to travellers. Next morning they were afoot again, and though at first they were very tired, recovered before long and went briskly forward.
They often stopped to rest, but only for a short space at a time, and then went on, having had but little food since the morning. It was nearly five o'clock in the afternoon when, drawing near another cluster of huts, the child looked into each, doubtful at which to ask for leave to rest awhile and buy a drink of milk.
It was not easy to choose, for she was very timid. Here was a crying child, and there a noisy wife. In this, the people seemed too poor, in that too many. At length she stopped at one where the family were seated round the table. She chose this cottage because there was an old man sitting in a chair beside the hearth, and she thought he was a grandfather, and would be kind to hers.
There were, besides, the cottager, his wife, and three little children, brown as berries. As soon as Nell had made known her wants she was invited within. The eldest boy ran out to fetch some milk, the second dragged two stools towards the door, while the youngest crept to his mother's gown, and looked at the strangers from beneath his sunburnt hand.
"You are welcome, master," said the old cottager, in a thin, piping voice. "Are you travelling far?"
"Yes, sir; a long way," replied the child, for her grandfather had turned to her for an answer.
"From London?" asked the old man