"Sam has told me of her and of Fan."
"And would you not care to see her?"
"Care, Mr. Fenwick! Wouldn't I give my eyes to see her? But how can I see her? And what could she say to me? Father 'd kill her if she spoke to me. Sometimes I think I'll walk there all the day, and so get there at night, and just look about the old place, only I know I'd drown myself in the mill-stream. I wish I had. I wish it was done. I've seed an old poem in which they thought much of a poor girl after she was drowned, though nobody wouldn't think nothing at all about her before."
"Don't drown yourself, Carry, and I'll care for you. Keep your hands clean. You know what I mean, and I will not rest till I find some spot for your weary feet. Will you promise me?" She made him no answer. "I will not ask you for a spoken promise, but make it yourself, Carry, and ask God to help you to keep it. Do you say your prayers, Carry?"
"Never a prayer, sir."
"But you don't forget them. You can begin again. And now I must ask for a promise. If I send for you will you come?"
"What—to Bull'ompton?"
"Wheresoever I may send for you? Do you think that I would have you harmed?"
"Perhaps it'd be—for a prison; or to live along with a lot of others. Oh, Mr. Fenwick, I could not stand that."
He did not dare to proceed any further lest he should be tempted to make promises which he himself could not perform; but she did give him an assurance before he went that if she left her present abode within a month, she would let him know whither she was going.