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All the children watched that strip of pavement with the hot air quivering above it, but still the car did not come. Suddenly Rose-Ellen clutched Dick's arm. "Those two men look like . . . look like. . . . They are Grampa and Daddy. But what have they done with the car?" "Where's the car?" Dick shouted, as the men came up. "W'ere tar?"
I have been busy so long that I could not settle down quietly here. Besides, I must live, you know." "But wouldn't people give you money for the show if you lived here, grampa? You always got money here the same as other places." "Yes, my dear, but I could not get fresh pictures every day, and should soon tire them by showing the old house."
I know you will not forget your old friends. You will love me whether you see me often or not; and Mrs. Walsham, who has been very kind to you; and James, you know, who saved your life." "I shall never forget anyone, grampa. I shall always love you better than anyone," the child exclaimed, throwing her arms round his neck with a fresh burst of tears.
Walsham said that would suit very well; and an hour later the sergeant set out from Sidmouth with his box, Aggie trotting alongside, talking continuously. "But why am I to stop with that lady, grampa, and not to go about with you any more? I sha'n't like it. I like going about, though I get so tired sometimes when you are showing the pictures; and I like being with you.
That he was to be with her always, was to give up his work to settle down in comfort, was indeed a delight to her. Greatly pleased was she, also, to hear that Mrs. Walsham was to be asked to come up to be her governess. "Oh, it will be nice!" she exclaimed, clapping her hands. "Just like the fairy stories you used to tell me, grampa, when everyone was made happy at the end by the good fairy.
"But I have seen women working in the fields, grampa, and some of them didn't seem very soft and gentle." "No, Aggie, things don't always go just as they ought to do; and you see, when people are poor, and men can't earn enough wages, then their wives and daughters have to help; and then, you see, they get rough, more like men, because they are not doing their proper work.
So Rose-Ellen patted him on the arm as they passed, saying, "Hi, Daddy, I'm after Grampa!" and hop-skipped on toward the old cobbler shop. Before Rose-Ellen was born, when Daddy was a boy, even, Grandpa had had his shop at that corner of the city street. There he was, standing behind the counter in the shadowy shop, his shoulders drooping like Daddy's.
The table and chairs were cream-color, and the table wore an embroidered flour-sack cover. Grandpa pottered with a loose door-latch until Grandma wrung the suds from her hands and cried fiercely, "What's the use doing such things, Grampa? You know good and well we can't stay on here. Everything's being taken away from us, even our children. . . ." "Miss Piper come to see you, too?"
Grandpa came back to help her, and stood staring. "Dick!" he called. "Did you tie that box on like I said?" Dick dropped a startled lip. "Gee whiz, Grampa! It was wedged in so tight I never thought." "No," said Grandpa, "I reckon you never did think."
The suggestion made no appeal to him, but it was certainly the part of wisdom to give the old man, if possible, a proprietary interest in his married life. In addition Anthony was a little touched. "That's very kind of you, grampa, but wouldn't it be a lot of trouble?" "Everything's a lot of trouble. Your father was married here but in the old house." "Why I thought he was married in Boston."
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