They stopped at the door of a snug habitation, where sat an elderly woman with a boy and a girl before her, each of whom held a supper of bread and milk in their hands.
“There, sir, is the school-mistress.”
“Madam,” said Harley, “was not an old venerable man school-master here some time ago?”
“Yes, sir, he was, poor man; the loss of his former school-house, I believe, broke his heart, for he died soon after it was taken down, and as another has not yet been found, I have that charge in the meantime.”
“And this boy and girl, I presume, are your pupils?”
“Ay, sir; they are poor orphans, put under my care by the parish, and more promising children I never saw.”
“Yes, sir, of honest creditable parents as any in the parish, and it is a shame for some folks to forget their relations at a time when they have most need to remember them.”
“Madam,” said Harley, “let us never forget that we are all relations.”
He kissed the children.