She kept talking like this for fear Eustace should cry again, for she was afraid she might cry too if he did.
When the corner was reached she took off her hat, drew the frock over her head, carefully wrapped her petticoats closely round her, and held out her arms for Eustace. The little boy was glad enough to creep into her lap, and then she folded the soft warm skirt all round him.
"Isn't that nice?" she said in a cheery tone, as Eustace laid his head against her.
"Shall I go to sleep?" he asked.
"Oh yes, of course, when we have had our supper. Robinson Crusoe always had supper, I think," she added, for she wanted him to eat some of the bread-and-butter they still had in the wallet.
She had to eat some, too, although she thought it would choke her at first. Still, for the sake of the child she must try; and they both ate some bread-and-butter. Then he kneeled down in her lap and said his prayers, as though he was at home in his own nursery.
When Eliza had made him as cosy and comfortable as she could, wrapped round in her frock, he said—
"When father says, 'God bless you, my little Eustace!' before he goes to bed, will God tell him we are out here in the dark, all alone?"
Eliza shook her head. "I don't know how God speaks to people," she said; "perhaps He puts the right kind of thoughts into their minds;" and as she said this, it occurred to her that the idea of the tide going out, that had never left her since it first entered her mind, was one of the thoughts that came from God to comfort and help her to be brave, that she might take care of Master Eustace. Of course the Vicar would pray that God would take care of all of them, and especially his own little boy, for she knew he was very fond of Eustace, and so perhaps the thought had come to her through the Vicar's prayer.
At any rate, it was such a comfort to the girl that soon after her little charge was asleep, she, too, had closed her eyes, and slept soundly for an hour or two, leaning against the chalk wall with her frock drawn closely round the child.