'Who has promised to be a father to the fatherless?' continued
he.
'But I've getten six children, sir, and the eldest not eight
years of age. I'm not meaning for to doubt His power, sir,--only
it needs a deal o' trust;' and she began to cry afresh.
'Hoo'll be better able to talk to-morrow, sir,' said the
neighbour. 'Best comfort now would be the feel of a child at her
heart. I'm sorry they took the babby.' 'I'll go for it,' said Margaret. And in a few minutes she
returned, carrying Johnnie, his face all smeared with eating, and
his hands loaded with treasures in the shape of shells, and bits
of crystal, and the head of a plaster figure. She placed him in
his mother's arms.
'There!' said the woman, 'now you go. They'll cry together, and
comfort together, better nor any one but a child can do. I'll
stop with her as long as I'm needed, and if yo' come to-morrow,
yo' can have a deal o' wise talk with her, that she's not up to
to-day.' As Margaret and her father went slowly up the street, she paused
at Higgins's closed door.
'Shall we go in?' asked her father. 'I was thinking of him too.' They knocked. There was no answer, so they tried the door. It was
bolted, but they thought they heard him moving within.
'Nicholas!' said Margaret. There was no answer, and they might
have gone away, believing the house to be empty, if there had not
been some accidental fall, as of a book, within.
'Nicholas!' said Margaret again. 'It is only us. Won't you let us
come in?' 'No,' said he. 'I spoke as plain as I could, 'bout using words,
when I bolted th' door. Let me be, this day.' Mr. Hale would have urged their desire, but Margaret placed her
finger on his lips.
'I don't wonder at it,' said she. 'I myself long to be alone. It
seems the only thing to do one good after a day like this.'