"And what becomes of you, my pretty one?"
"Me! I stay here, of course. I always do."
The stranger looked towards the old man, but he had turned away his head. Then he looked back to the slight, gentle figure of the child. Alone! In that gloomy place all the long, dreary night!
Nell, however, seemed to have no thought for herself, but cheerfully helped her grandfather with his cloak, and when he was ready, took a candle to light the way to the street door.
When they reached the door, the child, setting down the candle, turned to say good-night, and raised her face to kiss the visitor. Then she ran to her grandfather, who folded her in his arms and bade God bless her.
"Sleep soundly, Nell," he said in a low voice, "and angels guard thy bed! Do not forget thy prayers, my sweet."
"No, indeed," said the child; "they make me feel so happy."
"That's well; I know they do—they should," said the old man. "Bless thee a hundred times! Early in the morning I shall be home."
"You'll not ring twice," returned the child. "The bell wakes me, even in the middle of a dream."
With this they parted. The child opened the door (now guarded by a shutter which the boy had put up before he left the house), and with another farewell, held it until the two men had passed out. Her grandfather paused a moment while it was gently closed and fastened on the inside, and then walked on at a slow pace.