“‘Never mind, father,’ said Sue. ‘It’s only that I am a little cold.’
“‘You’re blue,’ said he.
“And at last Mr. Peg couldn’t stand it. Down went the leather one side of him, and the tools the other; and he went and lugged an armful or two of sticks up-stairs, and built a fire there, in spite of Sue’s begging him to keep on with his work and not mind her.
“‘But we sha’n’t have wood enough, father,’ she said at last gently.
“‘I’ll go o’nights to the beach, and fetch a double quantity,’ said the cobbler;—‘till your mother is able to come down-stairs. That I can do. I can’t bear the other thing, if you can.’
“And Sue stayed up-stairs, and the cobbler wrought after that pretty steadily for some hours. But in the middle of the afternoon came a new interruption. Two men came into the shop, and gave an order or two to the cobbler, who served them with unusual gravity.
“‘When is Court-day, Sheriff?’ he asked, in the course of business.
“‘To-morrow itself, Mr. Peg.’
“‘To-morrow!’ said the cobbler.
“‘What’s the matter? Comes the wrong day? It always does.’