“So I did, Rose. Bring them in, and let them warm themselves,” answered Mrs Mount. “Give them a sup of broth or what we have, to put a bit of life in them; and at after thou shalt bear them company to Thorpe. Poor little souls! they have no mother, and they say God looks after them only.”
“Then I shall be in His company too,” said Rose softly. Then, dropping her voice that the children might not hear, she added, “Mother, there’s only that drop of broth you set aside for breakfast; and it’s scarce enough for you and father both. Must I give them that?”
Alice Mount thought a moment. She had spoken before almost without thinking.
“Daughter,” she said, “if their Father, which is also ours, had come with them visible to our eyes, we should bring forth our best for Him; and He will look for us to do it for the little ones whose angels see His Face. Ay, fetch the broth, Rose.”
Perhaps Cissy had overheard a few words, for wheel the bowl of broth was put into her hands, she said, “Can you spare it? Didn’t you want it for something else than us?”
“We can spare it, little maid,” said Alice, with a smile.
“Sup it up,” added Rose, laying her hand on the child’s shoulder; “and much good may it do thee! Then, when you are both warmed and rested, I’ll set forth with you.”
Cissy did not allow that to be long. She drank her broth, admonished Will by a look to finish his—for he was disposed to loiter,—and after sitting still for a few minutes, rose and put down the bowl.
“We return you many thanks,” she said in her prim little way, “and I think, if you please, we ought to go home. Father ’ll be back by the time we get there; and I don’t like to be away when he comes. Mother bade me not. She said he’d miss her worse if he didn’t find me. You see, I’ve got to do for Mother now, both for Father and the children.”
Alice Mount thought it very funny to hear this little mite talking about “the children,” as if she were not a child at all.