“‘O thank you, Roswald!’ said Sue;—‘that will be such a help,—’ and she ran for the pennies, and gave them into his hand.
“‘I’ll be back presently,’ said he; ‘and then I’ll tell you about things. Run up now after Mrs. Lucy.’
“‘I don’t believe I need,’ said Sue; ‘they don’t want anything of me.’
“‘Run up, though,’ said Roswald; ‘maybe Mrs. Lucy will ask your mother too many questions.’
“‘Why, that won’t hurt her,’ said Sue, laughing; but Roswald seemed in earnest, and she went up.
“Immediately Roswald set himself to build a fire. He knew where to go for wood, and he knew how to manage it; he soon had the hearth in order and a fine fire made ready; and it was done without a soil on his nice clothes and white linen. He was gone before Mrs. Lucy and Sue came down, but the snapping and sparkling in the chimney told tales of him.
“‘Why, he has made the fire for me!’ cried Sue, with a very pleased face.
“‘What, the son of the widow, Mrs. Halifax?’
“‘Why, I have always known him,’ said Sue; ‘that is, almost always. I used to know him a great many years ago, when I went to school; and he always used to take care of me, and give me rides on his sleigh, and go on the beach with me; and he always comes here.’
“‘Yes, ma’am; he’s the best boy in the whole place,’ Sue said, with kindling eyes.
“‘I hope he is,’ said Mrs. Lucy, ‘for he has nobody to manage him but his mother. I fancy he has pretty much his own way.’
“‘It’s a good way,’ said Sue, decidedly. ‘He is good, Mrs. Lucy.’
“‘Does your mother want anything in particular, Sue?’
“Sue hesitated, and looked a little troubled.
“‘Tell me, dear; now, while your father is away, you have no one to manage for you. Let me know what I can do.’
“‘O Roswald would manage for us,’ said Sue;—‘but——’
“The lady’s manner and tone were very kind. Sue looked up.
“‘No, ma’am; and I’ve only two shillings and sixpence,—two shillings and fourpence, I mean,—to get anything with; and I don’t know what to get. She can’t eat what we can.’
“‘Have you nothing more to depend on but that, my child?’
“‘And what have you in the house besides? tell me, dear. We are all only stewards of what God gives us; and what you want, perhaps, I can supply.’
“‘We haven’t anything, Mrs. Lucy, but a little Indian meal. Roswald is going to buy me some more.’