Susan had been at Upland Farm for more than three years, and made herself generally useful in and out of doors. She milked the cows, and helped to make the butter, and attended to the dairy, and sometimes helped her mistress in the house.
Jenny was hired by the day, to do the odd things that no one else found time to do. She was a little red-haired, freckled girl, who lived with her grandmother up on the hill, and had just begun to make herself useful. Her home had been in Scotland till her parents' death, and when she first came south, three years before, she was very "Scotch" in her ways and words, but three years among the country people in England had done much towards breaking her of her northern expressions, and she had adopted many English words instead.
As soon as the farmer left the kitchen she left her dairy. Creeping, pan in hand, close to the door leading to the passage, which had been left a little open, she looked in. Jenny was curious to see what the children were like.
"That wee lassie's not as big as I am, but she ought to be able to give me a helping hand now and again. The missus will certainly see to that! No fear! I know that laddie will soon get a beating from Master Jack. Ay, but he's got nice red cheeks. I'm glad they've come; the place will not seem so drear."
At this moment Mrs. Clark came down the passage, and poor Jenny could not escape. In her fright she dropped her pan, which clattered on the bricks and rolled to her mistress's feet. Jenny got what she called a good "flighting," and shrunk back into the dairy trembling from head to foot.
"Well, Susan, here is a handful," said Mrs. Clark. "Your master has brought these children down on me like a thunder cloud. They'll just be turning the house upside down, and putting every one off their work. That idle Jenny's been looking through the door here the last half-hour, and leaving her work. What are you doing now? Feeding them? Oh, I daresay there'll be plenty of that. Go and get that old iron bedstead put up in your room as quickly as you can, and get them off to bed. You will find their clothes, if they've got any, in the old box standing there."
Susan was going to lead them off, but they both stood still.
"Please," said little Rose, "where is May? My mother told me always take care of her, and I think she will fret if she is alone."
"What have you done with her?" asked Robin, solemnly.
"She is safe enough," answered their aunt. "She's gone to sleep."
"My mother said I was to love her," said Robin, "and how can I if you take her away and shut her up?"
"No nonsense," said their aunt impatiently. "Go to bed and to sleep, and you will see her in the morning. I have other things to do beside standing here talking to you."
But Rose lingered, her eyes filling with tears. "I must have May."
"I tell you no, you cannot; she's asleep, and it won't do to waken her. Go, now," and her aunt closed the door.
Susan led them away, but no sooner had she reached her room than Rose gave way to a burst of tears.
"Come, come," said Susan, kindly, "don't cry, little girl. Mistress will take care of your little sister. I think she has taken a liking to her, and you'll get her back tomorrow. I daresay it seems lonesome to you. How is your mother?"
Little Rose sobbed, "I believe mother is very sick. I don't quite know what is wrong with her. I heard them say something about her not keeping — alive. Oh, dear! I love her so."
Robin cried bitterly, calling for his mother, till Susan's heart ached.
"What will I do with you?" she said. "Don't cry. You are going to sleep with me, and you will soon be happy."
"I think you seem a kind girl," said Robin, drawing a long sobbing breath, "but I feel as if I want to give some one a good-night kiss."
"Well, come here now. I know how to give you that, little man; just you put on your pajamas and climb up on my knee. You are weary; I was weary once, but now I have found a Friend,
`Jesus is mine.'
"Rosie, you climb up on the other knee. Now isn't that nice?" and she kissed first one cheek and then another.
"That's somehow like Mother did it, but you said you had a Friend. Who is it?"
"Have you not heard of Jesus? Would you not like to say a little prayer before you go to sleep?"
"I always say, 'Pray, God bless me, and make me a good boy, take care of Mother, for Christ's sake. Amen.' "
"And what do you say, Rosie?"
"I say the same, only I don't call myself a boy, you know, but last night, when I said good night to mother, she told me to make the Saviour (I think she said) my Friend. It is Him we pray to, isn't it?"
"Yes, it is to Jesus, who loved us and died for us, to save us. We pray to Him. But I must not stay talking now; get into bed, like good children, and tomorrow, if it please God, I'll tell you more. Jesus who lives above the bright blue sky wants to bless you, to make you happy, and to take care of you. He is very great as well as good, and if you trust Him He will make you glad." And kissing them again, she left to answer her mistress's sharp call, and was rebuked for being so long.
Half an hour after, Susan peeped into the bedroom and found Robin tossed sideways fast asleep, looking the picture of health, but Rose was nowhere to be seen. The girl was frightened and called her by name, but no answer. Opening the door, she saw a little white figure coming down the stairs carrying the baby.
"Rose, child, what a fright you gave me — what are you doing?"
"I am bringing May down. I heard her cry and cry, and I followed after the noise, and I found her sitting up in a great big bed alone in the dark. I quieted her in my arms. See her little hands round my neck! I could not leave her alone, so I brought her, and Susan, I will keep her now. See her little face with a tiny tear! I suppose she was crying for Mother or me. Susan, can you tell me, what has happened to Mother? If she is — you know," added Rose, piteously.
"I think she is going away from the earth, but let's hope to a brighter, happier place. It seems she has found a Saviour and friend in Jesus from what you say, and so she is just going to Him, and you will go some day. There, cuddle little May and keep her warm. I'll manage that you have her tonight."
In five minutes Rose was fast asleep, though with tears upon her cheek.
Mrs. Clark was very angry at first at Rose's interference about May — she wanted to keep the child to herself, and try to fill the void her baby had left behind. But when Susan told the story, her heart softened a little and she said no more that night.