THE third day when the little one ran to meet Ben, he caught her up in his arms, and she showed him a little piece of pudding wrapped up in a newspaper, which she had saved for him.
"Father so kind to me," she said, "he gave me large piece.”
"I'm very glad, Kit," he answered, rather quickly. "You won't want me soon, will you? Poor Ben may go away, right away where you'll never see him again.”
The jealous feeling was strong on him at that moment, so he must be forgiven for teasing her a little for the first time in his life. He did not really doubt her love to him, but he wanted at that moment to be assured of it in an unusual way, and he was satisfied, for her little lips went down with a jib: She had never known Ben speak so before, and as she always believed what he said to be true, she thought he meant it now The tears filled her eyes, and she began to cry.
"I not naughty, Ben dear; I be good. If 'oo go away, take me too," and she clung to his neck.
He kissed her and hugged her. "I won't go if you'll always love me," he said. "No, Kit, I'll never, never leave you. Dry up your eyes, What a cross boy I am.”
The next evening at six o'clock she stood at the door waiting for him again; but he was late, and she waited till it grew dark. A woman who had watched her the day before passed by. She was a hard-featured looking tramp of a woman; one of those who hire babies or delicate-looking children for the day, and who sit with them on the side of the pavement, to attract the pity of the passers by. She glanced at Kit.
"Ah!" she said to herself, "you are just the kind of child that would bring me in a fortune if I could only lay hands on you.”
There were but a few people in Peter's Street, and they were not looking at or thinking of her. She leaned against the railings in front of the house, and said to Kit, "Who are you looking for, my little dear? Your mother?”
"No," said Kit, shyly, "I havn't got one; I've only got Ben.”
“Oh! I see; you are looking for that little boy, are you? I met him just now, and he told me to come and fetch you, and to bring you to him. He's buying something for you in a shop down there, and he wants you to come directly.”
She jumped off the step, and put her hand into the woman's.
"Which way does he come?" she said, anxious to hurry the child off the other way.
"Sometimes there, sometimes there," said Kit, pointing both ways.
The woman drew her towards the thoroughfare, where they might pass along unnoticed.
"I'll carry you," she said to Kit, but the child wouldn't let her, and began to cry.
"Don't you do that, or I won't let you see Ben," said she, dragging her along.
At this moment they turned the corner, and the little girl screamed out, "There he is. Ben! Ben!”
He heard her and stopped.
"Why, Kit, who have you got with you? Come with me. Are you running away?”
The woman turned upon him angrily.
"Be off," she said, "you've nothing to do with us.”
"I have," he said, clinging to Kit; "she belongs to me; she is my little girl. Give her up.”
Had it not been for one or two people who stopped to listen, she would have torn the child from him and made off, but it would not do; it was too evident that she belonged to Ben, so the woman slunk off, and the boy bore Kit home, and there learned how she had been decoyed away.
"Oh, I am glad I came then," he said, "and that you saw me; I shall always take you with me now. As I was walking home, I was so happy, Kit; I had something in my pocket I bought for you, for I have had some good days lately, and I was thanking our Father in heaven for being so kind to us, and I had just asked Him to take care of us both, and to make you strong and well, when you called me, so you see He did watch over you, Kit! We will thank Him tonight. To-morrow is Sunday, and it is school-day again. We've been twelve times now; and, don't you remember, the lady said last time she had something nice to tell us to-morrow.”
What Miss Randolph told the children was this-that she intended to give them a treat the first or second week in June. She thought of taking them to a large meadow at Hornsey; and that, as they were most of them very young, they were to go in vans. Then she talked to them in a kindly pleasant way about what they should do when they got there.
"We shall start early in the morning," she said, "and have a nice ride to Hornsey; then you will play with balls and all sorts of games, and have swings under the trees; but, best of all, I expect you will like the tea. There will be piles of bread and butter and cake, and you may eat as much as you like; and after we have finished, we will sing hymns under the trees before we ride home.”
It sounded like a fairy tale to Ben and Kit. They never remembered to have been in a meadow in their lives, and as to the thought of games of play, and trees, and bread and butter, and cake and swings, it nearly turned their brains. Of course they talked of nothing else for many a day; but they had three weeks to wait and talk it over.