“‘But what’s pop-robin good for without milk?’ said Roswald, as they went to the barrel, which he had rolled into the pantry.
“‘O now I might get a halfpenny’s worth of milk,’ said Sue;—‘it’s for mother; and now we have so many things, we might afford it.’
“‘See you don’t,’ said Roswald. ‘Mother sends you word—there are enough nails in this barrel-head!—she says you may have as much milk as you want from her cow, whenever you will come for it or I will bring it; so between us I guess it’ll be safe to count upon it.’
“He was hammering at the barrel-head, and Sue standing by looking very pleased, her little hand gratefully resting on his shoulder, when another hand was laid on hers. Sue turned.
“‘Father!’ she exclaimed. ‘O father!—are you home?—O I’m so glad!—’
“The cobbler’s grey head was stooped almost to the barrel-top, and Sue’s arms were round his neck; and how many times they kissed each other I don’t believe either of them knew. It seemed impossible for Sue to loose her hold.
“‘And you are here, my boy,’ said the cobbler, turning to Roswald,—‘doing my work!’
“‘No, sir, I have been doing mine,’ said Roswald.
“‘O father, he has taken such care of me!’ said Sue.
“‘I warrant him,’ said the cobbler. ‘If I could only have known that Roswald Halifax was in town, I could have minded my business with some quietness.’