'And how did you get the silver penny back again?' asked Pat. 'You couldn't have looked for it, for you see you had promised it to the fairies, hadn't you?'
'Yes, of course, and one must always keep to their bargain with the fairies,' said Nance. 'No, I didn't look for it, but late that evening when granny was closing the shutters, she called me to look at something sparkling in the moonlight on the window-sill. It was my lucky penny. And from that day to this I've never been without it, and many a time it's seemed to give me fresh courage and spirit in the midst of troubles, and one thing is true—all my life through I've never been brought to such a pass as to have to part with it, though now and then the need has come very near. But something's always turned up just in the nick of time to save it; I've always pulled through, though I had an ailing husband for many a year, and the father of poor Bob there, my only son, was cut down in the prime of life, he and his young wife, leaving me another young boy to bring up when I was more fit myself to be sleeping quiet and peaceful in the old churchyard.'
And old Nance wiped away a gentle tear or two that were struggling down her brown cheeks.
Little Rosamond stole her hand into Nance's.
'You've got friends now, haven't you? And I'm sure Uncle Ted or Mr. Hervey would help you about Bob any time if you needed help.'
'Yes, missie dear, I've much to be thankful for, and I hope and trust poor Bob'll take to steady ways like his father and grandfather before him, though there's times I worry about him a bit—he's a loving boy, but he's got the gipsy restlessness in him too.'
CHAPTER XI
A GREAT SACRIFICE
Nance's story had taken longer to tell than might seem the case. For she had stopped now and then, and the children had asked questions and made remarks. So they were all a little startled when, glancing out of doors, they saw how fast the daylight was fading and the twilight creeping on.