Alice Mount laid her hand softly on Cissy’s head.
“Ay, little maid, God will do it right,” she said. “But maybe He’d let me help too, by nows and thens. Thou knowest the Black Bear at Much Bentley—corner of lane going down to Thorpe?”
Yes, Cissy knew the Black Bear, as her face showed.
“Well, when thou gets to the Black Bear, count three doors down the lane, and thou’lt see a sign with a bell. That’s where I live. Thee rap at the door, and my daughter shall go along with you to Thorpe, and help to carry the meal too. Maybe we can find you a sup of broth or milk while you rest you a bit.”
“Oh, thank you!” said Cissy in her grown-up way. “That will be good. We’ll come.”
Chapter Three.
Rose.
“Poor little souls!” repeated Margaret Thurston, when the children were out of hearing.