She held a cup of tea to my lips, and I drank gratefully; and ate a slice of bread-and-butter she gave me.
'There, my dear! My darling feels better, does he not?'
'Yes.' As I looked at her, the scene I had witnessed, of which she had been the principal figure, dawned upon me. I could not check my sobs; I felt as if my heart would burst. 'O mother! mother!' I cried. 'I remember now; I remember now!'
She held me in her arms, and caressed me, and pressed me to her heart. My tears flowed upon her faithful breast.
'How did you find me, dear child? Unkind mother that I am to leave my darling hungry and alone all the day!'
'Don't say that, mother. You mustn't; you mustn't! If anybody else said it, I would kill him!'
'Hush, dear child! You must not excite yourself. Come, you shall go to bed; and you shall tell me all in the morning, please God.'
'No, I want to tell you now; I want to talk to you now. I want to lie here, and talk quietly, quietly! Oh, but I am so sorry! so sorry!'
'For what, dear child?'
Through my sobs I murmured, 'That you should have to stand in the cold, and beg for me!' My arms were round her, and I felt her shrink and tremble within them. 'Now I know what the poor woman in the forest did when she went to look for food for her bird. If any one saw you that knew you, would you not be ashamed? Would you not run away?'