"So we have now; you ought to come and see them, Polly." There was a wistful expression in the little girl's countenance which somewhat touched her cousin, and he remembered what a long time had passed since she had paid a visit to his home. "Why don't you come?" he continued. "Mother would be very glad to see you, you know."
"Would she? I don't know so much about that," Polly responded bluntly, with a short laugh; "if Aunt Janie wanted to see me she'd invite me to the Rookery, I shouldn't think of going there otherwise."
There was an awkward pause in the conversation after this. The children were, by now, nearing the outskirts of the town, and coming to the clay works, which formed the chief industry of the neighbourhood. The high road adjoining the works had a row of labourers' cottages on either side, with small gardens in front.
"That's where our old servant, Sarah Glubb, lives," said Roger, indicating one of these dwellings; "and, look! There's Sarah herself in the doorway."
"Oh, I must speak to her for a minute!" cried Polly. "I know it was visiting-day at the hospital yesterday, so for certain she saw her husband then; I want to ask her how he is."
Sarah—a neat, pleasant-faced woman—stood with her baby in her arms. She smiled at the children as they approached, and they stood talking to her a short while—at least, Polly and Roger talked, whilst Edgar listened. As Polly had imagined, Sarah had been to see her husband on the preceding day, and had been cheered to find him much better.
"The nurse told me the doctor considers Caleb will be able to come home in about another fortnight," she said happily; "but I am afraid it will be some weeks longer before he will be strong enough to work in the clay pits," she added, her countenance clouding slightly.
"Does your good fairy still remember you, Sarah?" Polly questioned anxiously.
"Yes, miss," Sarah answered, a radiant smile driving the gloom from her face, "so perhaps she—or maybe it's he—will go on helping me till my man's able to work for me and the little ones again. I only wish I knew who it is that is being such a friend to me, that I do. God bless whoever it is, I say—aye, and He will."
"What did you mean about a good fairy, Polly?" questioned Edgar as soon as he and his cousins were out of Sarah's hearing. "There are no fairies nowadays."