The old man leaned forward suddenly, and seemed to scan the speaker’s face with a curious intentness.
“Morland, did you say, my dear? Ah! once I knew someone with that name. Does your father live here-abouts?”
“My father is dead. Austin and I live with our mother in Woodend; but we have not been here long—only since the spring.”
Frances talked on easily and quietly, fearing to disturb East, who, with his face turned from her, gazed into the fire. One hand he held across his eyes; the other, which rested on his knee, trembled a little. For a time he sat thus, hardly speaking, yet evidently listening with interest and pleasure to all the young girl cared to tell him. When she did hear his voice, it addressed her in quavering gentleness:
“And you’ve come to see me, Missy,—you, so blithe and bonnie! The Lord Himself sent you this night to gladden my old eyes. Ah! but I’m thankful—I’m thankful! Will you remember, little Missy, when I’m gone hence, as your coming brought a blessing with it to Rowdon Cottage?”
M432
“THE OLD MAN LEANED FORWARD SUDDENLY TO SCAN THE SPEAKER’S FACE.”
Frances, moved by this appeal, and somewhat shy—for the aged face near her was quivering, and the aged voice faltered and broke—put her small hand trustfully on East’s wasted fingers.
“I am glad we came; and you are very kind. Mayn’t I come and see you sometimes, with Max?”