“Sue stood, sober and silent, while Mrs. Lucy went out at the door; and then she fell down on her knees before one of the chairs, and sunk her head on her hands; and was quite still for a minute or two, till the knocking sounded again. It was not a gentle tap on the floor, just to let Sue know she was wanted; it was an impatient, quarrelsome, vexatious, ‘rat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat!’ ’rat-tat!’ ’rat-tat!’ Sue ran up.
“The cobbler did not come home that night, and Roswald would stay in the house. Sue did all she could to hinder him; for indeed there was nothing for him to sleep on but the pile of leather scraps; but he would not be hindered.
“‘But your mother, Roswald?’ Sue gently urged.
“‘What of my mother?’
“‘She will want you.’
“‘How do you know that?’
“‘I should think she would,’ said Sue.
“‘Should you? Well, she thinks, and so do I, that you want me more.’
“‘How good you are, dear Roswald!’
“‘Not very, Sue,’ said Roswald, calmly.