At the first sight of her they paused, hardly recognising her, and half afraid—then, with a cry, they rushed into her arms, and for a few minutes all three wept together.
“What ’ave ’ee been doing—where ’ave ’ee been?” cried Bessie, the first to check her tears. “Oh, my dear life, the fright you’ve gived me, Aaron! I ought to lace your jacket for you; it’s what you deserves. But I haven’t the heart to. Oh, my dear life! the fright I’ve had, and how glad I am to see ’ee both. I don’t know what I haven’t thought might have happened to ’ee. But what have you been doing, you naughty, naughty children, to leave your beds and get out of window like that? I’ll never be able to trust ’ee any more, and I’ll have bars put to them windows before I sleep to-night!”
By this time some of their alarm had passed off, but the children sobbed on, partly from hunger, partly from weariness and shock, but a great deal from the sense of their naughtiness to poor Bessie, who had been so good and kind to them; and it was not until they had sobbed out all their story that they could control themselves and feel at all comforted.
Bessie did not scold them any more, but she looked very grave.
“Well,” she said, “there is no knowing what Mr. Winter will do, for he is a funny kind of gentleman, and you were very naughty children; and what you have to do now is to make up your minds to bear what he does do. A pretty fine tale I’ve got to write to your ma and pa, Miss Loveday,” she added, “and a nice bit of news you’ve got for father when he comes home”—turning to Aaron—“and he been out all night too, working hard to get you food and clothes!”
Aaron began to weep again, touched to the heart by remorse.
“I’ll write to daddy myself and tell him,” sighed Loveday penitently. “Perhaps it won’t frighten him so much if he hears it from me first. I’ll write directly after breakfast, and then I’ll go and post it. May I, Bessie?”
“Yes, miss, if you’ll promise not to run away again,” said Bessie severely. “You see, I don’t feel sure now about trusting either of you. I think I shall have to hobble you both, like they do the goats, or tether you.”
At which Loveday felt more humbled than ever she had in her life before.