Conduct of life -- Juvenile fiction; Family life -- Juvenile fiction; Grandparents -- Juvenile fiction
"Oh no, of course not," said Pamela. "But there wouldn't be quite enough
room for them in here, would there, Mrs. Peter?"
"I am afraid not," she replied. "You see there's only one bed. But we've
made a nice place for you, master and missy, in here," and she drew back
a clean cotton curtain in one corner, behind which, on a sort of settle,
Peter and she had placed one of their mattresses so as to make a nice
shake-down. "You'll sleep very well in here, don't you think?"
"Oh yes," exclaimed the children, "us will be very comfortable. What
nice clean sheets!" continued Pamela; "it makes me fink of our white
beds at home," and her voice grew rather doleful, as if she were going
to cry.
"But you've no need to cry about your home _now_, missy dear," said Tim.
"You're on the way there."
"Yes, how silly I am!" said Pamela. "I fink I forgot. It's such a long
time ago since us slept in a nice clean bed with sheets. I wish it was
time to go to bed now."
"I think it would be a very good plan if you and master was to take a
little sleep. You must be tired getting up so early," suggested Mrs.
Peter, devoutly hoping they would agree to let themselves be quietly
stowed away behind the checked cotton curtain. For poor Mrs. Peter was
dreadfully afraid of the gipsies, and her motive in agreeing to befriend
Tim and the children was really far more the wish to save them from the
hands they had fallen among than any hope of reward.
"I'd rather bury baby, bless her, any day, than think of her among
such," she had said on hearing the story.
Duke and Pamela looked longingly at the "nice white sheets." They were
both, to tell the truth, very sleepy, but dignity had to be considered.
"It's only babies that go to bed in the day, Nurse says," objected Duke.
"She said so one day that us got into our beds, and she said us had
dirtied them with our shoes. Us had been playing in the garden."
"But you've no need to keep your shoes on," said Mrs. Peter. "And many a
big person's very glad to take a sleep in the day, when they're tired
and have been up very early maybe."
So at last the twins allowed themselves to be persuaded, and Mrs.
Peter's heart, and Tim's too, for that matter, were considerably lighter
when the curtain was drawn forward and no trace of the little passengers
was to be seen. Tim, following the young woman's advice, curled himself
up in a corner where he was easily hidden.
"And now," said Mrs. Peter, "I'll just go up on the deck as usual, so
that if any boats pass us who know us by sight, they'll never think
we've any runaways on board; though for my part I can't see as that
Mick'd dare to make much stir, seeing as he might be had up for stealing
them."
"It's not him I'm so much afeared of as that Signor," said Tim. "He's
such a terrible sharp one, Diana says."
"But the perlice must be after the children by now," persisted Mrs.
Peter. "And every one far and wide knows of Crookford Fair and the
gipsies that comes to it."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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