How improbable did it then appear that this interview would ultimately lead to so much good to many of her people! When the fortnight expired, the widow and her aunt again appeared, when the following conversation took place. "I am glad you are come again," said their friend. "Yes," replied the widow, "and I will now let you have my Betsy;" and the aunt immediately added, pointing to one of her grand-children, "I will let you have my little _deary_, if you will take care of her. Her father," continued she, "was condemned to die, but is transported for life, and her mother now lives with another man." The proposal was readily accepted; and three days after, these two children were brought washed very clean, and dressed in their best clothes. It was promised the women, that they should see their children whenever they chose, and all parties were pleased. The eldest of these children was six years of age; the widow's little daughter, only three. The first day they amused themselves with running up and down stairs, and through the rooms of the house. But when put to bed at night, they cried for two hours, saying that the house would fall upon them. They had never spent a day in a house before, and were at night like birds that had been decoyed, and then robbed of their liberty. A few kisses and some promises at length quieted them, and they went to sleep. After remaining with the author three days, they were removed to one of the Infants' Schools, where they were often visited by the widow and her aunt. Soon after this the eldest girl was taken ill. A medical gentleman attended her at the tent, a little way from the town, whither her grandmother had begged to remove her for change of air. But the sickness of this child _was unto death_. She was a lovely and affectionate girl, notwithstanding the disadvantages under which she had necessarily laboured. When on her bed, in the tent, suffering much pain, she was asked by a gentleman, "Although you love Mr Crabb so much, would you rather live with him, or die, and go to Jesus?" She answered, "I would rather die and go to Jesus." Her death very much affected her grandmother. She would not leave the corpse, which she often affectionately embraced, till persuaded she would endanger her own life. This appeared a melancholy event to all who wished well to the Gipsies in the neighbourhood of Southampton. For the widow, fearing her child would become ill and die too, immediately removed her from the school. And many of the Gipsy people treated the women with great contempt, for giving up their children; and the prospects of doing them lasting good, became very much beclouded. It was however represented to them, that God was doing all things for the best, and their spirits were soothed; and in consequence, the little fatherless girl was again brought to the school.