His mother did not speak for a while, and it seemed as if she were not going to speak at all, so that the boy said, with a little sigh of renunciation, “I didn't expect you would. But I'd be as careful! And even if the Good Old Man ain't so very good, Mr. Hingston is, and he wouldn't let anything happen to me.” The woman put her hand under the boy's chin, and looked into his eager eyes which had not ceased their pleading. At last she said, “You can go, Joey!” “Mother!” He jumped to his feet from his crouching at hers. “Oh, glory to God!” “Hush, Joey, you mustn't say things like that. It's like swearing, dear.” “I know it is, and I didn't mean to. Of course it's right, in meetin', and it kind of slipped out when I wasn't thinkin'. But I won't say any bad things, you needn't be afraid. Oh, I'll be as good! But look a'here, mother! Why can't you come, too?” “And leave your little sister?” She smiled sadly. “I didn't think of that. But couldn't Jane take care of her? She's always carryin' her around. And Uncle David could come here, and live with them. He wouldn't want to stay there without me, or no one.” “It wouldn't do, Joey dear.” “No,” the boy assented. “You can go and tell Benny I said you might go, if his father will have you.” “Oh, he _will_; he said so; Benny's ast him! And he said he'd take good care of us both.” “I'm not afraid. You know how to take care of yourself. And, Joey--” She stopped, and the boy prompted her, “What, mom?” “When I said the Good Old Man wasn't a good man, I didn't want to set you against him. I want you to be good to him.” “Yes, mother,” the boy assented in a puzzle. “But if he ain't good--” “He ain't, Joey. He's a wicked man. Sometimes I think he's the wickedest man in the world. But I want you to watch out, and if ever you can help him, or do anything for him, remember that I wanted you to do it: a boy can often help a man.” “I will, mother. But I don't see the reason, if he's so very wicked, why--” “That's the very reason, Joey dear. And go and tell Benny now that I let you go. And--don't tell him what I said about the Good Old Man.” “Oh, I woon't, I woon't, mom! Oh, glory--Oh, I didn't mean to say it, and I didn't, really, did I? But I'm so glad, and Benny'll be, too! Can I tell him now? To-night?” “Yes. Run along.” He hesitated; then he leaped into the air with a joyful yell and vanished round the corner of the cabin into the dusk. His mother did not leave her place on the threshold, but sat with her face bowed in her hands. By and by Jane Gillespie came to the door from within, and then Nancy lifted her head and made room for her to sit beside her. She told her what had passed, and Jane said, “If I was a man I would--Well, I know what I would do!” She did not sit down, but stood behind Nancy and talked down over her shoulder. “Yes,” Nancy said, “that's what I used to say when I was a girl. But now I'm glad I ain't a man, for I wouldn't know what to do.”