"No."

"Bless thy little heart! and I'll warrant not. Why, God's guided
the bairn, because he was innocent! Away from the Place, and over
Harthover Fell, and down Lewthwaite Crag! Who ever heard the like,
if God hadn't led him? Why dost not eat thy bread?"

"I can't."

"It's good enough, for I made it myself."

"I can't," said Tom, and he laid his head on his knees, and then
asked -

"Is it Sunday?"

"No, then; why should it be?"

"Because I hear the church-bells ringing so."

"Bless thy pretty heart! The bairn's sick. Come wi' me, and I'll
hap thee up somewhere. If thou wert a bit cleaner I'd put thee in
my own bed, for the Lord's sake. But come along here."

But when Tom tried to get up, he was so tired and giddy that she
had to help him and lead him.

She put him in an outhouse upon soft sweet hay and an old rug, and
bade him sleep off his walk, and she would come to him when school