“Father, did anybody come and see to you? I asked the Lord to see to it, because I knew you’d miss me sore,” said Cissy anxiously, “and I want to know if He did.”
“Ay, my dear heart,” replied Johnson, smiling as he looked down on her. “Ursula Felstede came in and dressed dinner for me, and Margaret Thurston looked in after, and she washed some matters and did a bit of mending; and at after I had company—Father Tye, and Robin Purcas, and Jack Love. So thou seest I was not right lonesome.”
“He took good care of you. Father,” said Cissy, looking happy. It was evident that Cissy lived for and in her father. Whatever he was, for good or evil, that she was likewise.
“Well, I’ve got to look in on Margaret Thurston,” said Rose, “for I did a bit of marketing for her this morrow in the town, and I have a fardel to leave. She was not at home when we passed, coming. But now, I think I’d better be on my way, so I’ll wish you good den, Johnson. God bless you, little ones!”
“Good den, Rose!” said Cissy. “And you’ll learn me to weave lace with those pretty bobbins?”
“That will I, with a very good will, sweet heart,” said Rose, stooping to kiss Cissy.
“Weave lace!” commented her father. “What, what is the child thinking, that she would fain learn to weave lace?”
“Oh, Father, please, you won’t say nay!” pleaded Cissy, embracing her father’s arm with both her own. “I want to bring you in some money.” Cissy spoke with a most important air. “You know, of an even, I alway have a bit of time, after Will and Baby be abed, and at times too in the day, when Will’s out with George Felstede, and I’m minding Baby; I can rock her with my feet while I make lace with my hands. And you know, Father, Will and Baby ’ll be growing big by and bye, and you won’t have enough for us all without we do something. And Rose says she’ll learn me how, and that if I have a lace pillow—and it won’t cost very much, Father!—I can alway take it up for a few minutes by nows and thens, when I have a bit of time, and then, don’t you see, Father? I can make a little money for you. Please, please don’t say I mustn’t!” cried Cissy, growing quite talkative in her eagerness.
Johnson and Rose looked at each other, and Rose laughed; but though Cissy’s father smiled too, he soon grew grave, and laid his hand on his little girl’s head, as she stood looking up earnestly.
“Nay, my little maid, I’ll never say nought of the sort. If Rose here will be so good as to learn thee aught that is good, whether for body or soul, I will be truly thankful to her, and bid thee do the like and be diligent to learn. Good little maid! God bless thee!”