She took the little creature in her arms, and smoothed away her sad looks to a smile, and kissed it fondly, saying over and over again, “Nanny, Nanny, my little Nanny.” At last the child was soothed, and looked in her face and smiled back again.
“It has her eyes,” said she to Susan.
“I never saw her to the best of my knowledge. I think it must be her’s by the frock. But where can she be?”
“God knows,” said Mrs. Leigh; “I dare not think she’s dead. I’m sure she isn’t.”
“No! she’s not dead. Every now and then a little packet is thrust under our door, with maybe two half-crowns in it; once it was a half-sovereign. Altogether I’ve got seven-and-thirty shillings wrapped up for Nanny. I never touch it, but I’ve often thought the poor mother feels near to God when she brings this money. Father wanted to set the policeman to watch, but I said No, for I was afraid if she was watched she might not come, and it seemed such a holy thing to be checking her in, I could not find in my heart to do it.”
“Oh, if we could but find her! I’d take her in my arms, and we’d just lie down and die together.”
“Nay, don’t speak so!” said Susan gently, “for all that’s come and gone, she may turn right at last. Mary Magdalen did, you know.”
“Eh! but I were nearer right about thee than Will. He thought you would never look on him again if you knew about Lizzie. But thou’rt not a Pharisee.”
“I’m sorry he thought I could be so hard,” said Susan in a low voice, and coloring up. Then Mrs. Leigh was alarmed, and in her motherly anxiety, she began to fear lest she had injured Will in Susan’s estimation.
“You see Will thinks so much of you—gold would not be good enough for you to walk on, in his eye. He said you’d never look at him as he was, let alone his being brother to my poor wench. He loves you so, it makes him think meanly on everything belonging to himself, as not fit to come near ye,—but he’s a good lad, and a good son—thou’lt be a happy woman if thou’lt have him—so don’t let my words go against him; don’t!”