But now, dear friend, drink this other cup
of tea and eat a little more."
"What!" said Lisbeth, taking the cup and speaking in a less querulous
tone, "had ye got no feyther and mother, then, as ye war so sorry about
your aunt?"
"No, I never knew a father or mother; my aunt brought me up from a baby.
She had no children, for she was never married and she brought me up as
tenderly as if I'd been her own child."
"Eh, she'd fine work wi' ye, I'll warrant, bringin' ye up from a babby,
an' her a lone woman--it's ill bringin' up a cade lamb. But I daresay
ye warna franzy, for ye look as if ye'd ne'er been angered i' your life.
But what did ye do when your aunt died, an' why didna ye come to live in
this country, bein' as Mrs. Poyser's your aunt too?"
Dinah, seeing that Lisbeth's attention was attracted, told her the story
of her early life--how she had been brought up to work hard, and
what sort of place Snowfield was, and how many people had a hard life
there--all the details that she thought likely to interest Lisbeth. The
old woman listened, and forgot to be fretful, unconsciously subject to
the soothing influence of Dinah's face and voice. After a while she was
persuaded to let the kitchen be made tidy; for Dinah was bent on this,
believing that the sense of order and quietude around her would help in
disposing Lisbeth to join in the prayer she longed to pour forth at her
side.
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