Mrs. Brooks drew near.
“Well, my child, that is a dilemma I have not thought of before. Perhaps, who knows, something will turn up to keep your darlings nearer home. When autumn comes, if I feel desperately in want of bantams, I may purchase your brood myself,—but I will not promise about it. In the meantime, don’t get to loving them too much; and remember, that if you told Comfort you would give her the money, you must keep your word.”
“Yes,” said Nell, with another sigh; “there is just my trouble; I want to be honorable to Comfort, and kind to myself too.”
Mrs. Brooks passed on. She went into a little vegetable garden beyond, found what she wanted, and came back.
She paused again, and with the little girl, looked at the chickens.
“Nelly,” she said, “it has just struck me that you have been a great deal in the kitchen with Comfort, lately, of evenings. Now, though I respect and love Comfort for many things, I want you to stay more with your father, and Martin, and myself, in the sitting-room.”
“What?” Nelly cried, in innocent wonder; “isn’t Comfort good any longer?”
Mrs. Brooks smiled.
“Yes, dear, Comfort’s as good as ever. She tries to do her duty, and is a faithful old creature. She has many excellent qualities, but she is not educated nor refined, as I hope one day you will be. You are too young to be exposed to her influence constantly, proper as it may be in most respects. I want you to fill a different rank in life from Comfort’s, Nelly.”