Then Mrs. Cricket kissed him and cried over him again, and the scene might have been prolonged if Mrs. Warren had not caught the boy roughly by the shoulder and pulled him away.
As they were marching down the tiny path which led from the cottage to the high-road, Mrs. Cricket did venture to say in an anxious voice:
"I s'pose as Major Harvey'll pay me the little money as I spended on the dear child?"
"That he will," said Mrs. Warren. "I'll see him to-night, most like, and I'll be sure to mention the chuckens and the chops."
"Well then, good-bye again, darling," said Mrs. Cricket. Ronald blew a kiss to her, and then, taking Connie's hand, they marched down the high-road in the direction of the railway station, Mrs. Warren trotting by their side, carrying the small bundle which contained Ronald's clothes all tied up neatly in a blue check handkerchief.
"Yer'll be sure to tell yer father wot a good nurse I were to you, Ronald," she remarked as they found themselves alone in a third-class carriage.
"You're quite sure it was only a dream?" said Ronald then very earnestly.
"Wot do yer mean by that, chile?" inquired Mrs. Warren.
"I mean the dark room without any light, and the dreadful person who—who—flogged me, and—the hunger."
"Poor little kid!" said Mrs. Warren. "Didn't he 'ave the fever, and didn't Mammy Warren hold him in her arms, an', big boy that he be, walked up and down the room wid him, and tried to soothe him w'en he said them nasty lies? It wor a dream, my dear. W'y, Connie here can tell yer 'ow good I am to 'er."