The Story of Jessie by Mabel Quiller-Couch
page 17 of 146 (11%)
page 17 of 146 (11%)
|
this time standing by awkwardly, wondering what he could do or say.
But at that look he forgot himself and his doubts, and the guard and everything but the pitiful frightened look on the little face. "Come along with grandfather," he said coaxingly, dropping on his knee beside her. "Come along with me, dear, and I'll take care of you till mother comes. Granny is home waiting for 'ee with a bootiful tea, and there's flowers, and a kitten, and a fine little rose-bush in a pot that grandfather picked out on purpose for 'ee. Wouldn't you like to come and see it all?" "Will Jessie have roses?" she asked eagerly, her eyes growing bright and expectant. "Yes, I shouldn't be surprised if there's one nearly out already. Let's go home quick, and see, shall we? It had got a bud on it when I left, maybe it'll be out by this time, if not you can be sure it will be to-morrow." The engine gave another shrill whistle, the train jerked and quivered. Thomas hastily gathered up Jessie in his arms, shawl and all. "Where's your box, and all the rest of it?" "Haven't got any." "Haven't got any! Your clothes, I mean, frocks and hats and boots and suchlike." "I've got on my boots," putting out her feet, and showing a very shabby broken pair, "and there's a parcel there, my old frock is in |
|