The Story of Jessie | Page 7

about."
"Well, you won't be troubled with too many people hereabouts," said
her grandfather, laughing, but he was only too glad to clasp the little
hand thrust into his, and they walked on very happily together talking
quite as though they were old friends.
"We are nearly home now, 'tisn't so very much further. Are 'ee tired,
dear?"
"No--o, not so very," she answered, but in rather a weary voice. "Are
you too tired to carry me?"
Her grandfather laughed, but before he could reply, or pick her up, she
drew back a little. "Is my face clean?" she asked anxiously. "I must
have a clean face when I see granny. Mother told me granny doesn't
like little girls with dirty faces. Do you, granp?"

"I like some little girls, no matter what their faces is like," he said
warmly, but recollecting himself, he added quickly, "Of course I like
'em best with nice clean faces and hands and tidy hair. Every one does."
"Mother said you didn't mind so much," she added brightly.
"Did she! did she now! Just fancy her thinking that!" The old man's
face quite lighted up at the thought of Lizzie's remembering. "Yes, I
used to dip the corner of my handkerchief in the brook sometimes and
wash her little face for her, so as she might go home to her mother
looking clean. Look, here is a little brook, shall I wash yours over a bit,
like I used to mother's?"
"Oh, please, please," cried Jessie delightedly.
So by the wayside they stopped and made quite a little toilette, her face
and hands were washed, and her hair put back neatly under her shabby
hat, and then they went on again.
Patience Dawson, looking anxiously out of the window, saw them at
last arrive at the gate, and her heart almost stood still with excitement
and nervousness. "Why, it might be five and twenty years ago, and
Thomas be bringing in Lizzie herself!" she gasped. Her face flushed,
tears suddenly brimmed over and down her cheeks. She longed to run
down the garden and take the little child in her arms and hold her to her
heart, but a sudden shyness came over her and held her fast. She could
only stand there and watch them and wait.
She saw her husband looking eagerly from window to door, expecting
to see her; she saw the little child face turned excitedly from side to
side, exclaiming at the sight of the flowers, and sniffing in the scent.
"Oh, granp, smell the 'warriors'!" she heard her cry in a perfectly
friendly voice. "You sniff hard and you'll smell them. Oh, my!"
"She's friends with him already, same as Lizzie was. I wish I knew how
to--" But her wish she only sighed, she did not put it into words.

"Never mind the flowers now, little maid; here's granny inside waiting
for us." Then he put her down on her feet, and led her over the
threshold.
Patience, dabbing the tears from her eyes with her handkerchief,
stepped forward to meet them. "I'd begun to wonder what had become
of 'ee, father," she said. "I s'pose the train was late. Well, dear,"
stooping to kiss her little grandchild, "how are you? Have you got a
kiss for granny?"
"Yes," Jessie nodded gravely, "and my face is very clean," she added,
as she put it up to be kissed. But she turned and slipped her hand into
her grandfather's again as soon as the kiss was given, for she felt a little
awed and shy with this granny, who seemed so much more grown-up
and stern than did the grandfather.
Her shyness did not last very long, though; by the time granny had
taken her up to her room and shown her the rose-bush, and taken off
her hat and brushed out her hair, and brought her down to tea and lifted
her into her seat at the table, much of her shyness had worn off, and the
sight of the mug with pictures on it, and the little plate "with words on
it," loosened her tongue again, and set it chattering quite freely.
The meal lasted a long time that night, for Jessie was full of talk, and
neither her "granp," as she already familiarly called him, nor her granny
could bear to interrupt her, especially after she had slidden down from
her high seat at the table, and clambered on to her grandfather's knee;
for to them her presence seemed like some wonderful dream, from
which they were afraid of waking.
At last, though, the little tongue grew quiet, the dark curly head fell
back on granp's shoulder, and then the bright eyes closed.
"I reckon I'd best carry her right up to bed," said Thomas softly. "If