h a single-hearted
devotion. The house was no longer theirs; even the sick chamber they
retained by special favor until such time as the old man could be
removed. Meanwhile, Mr. Quilp had taken formal possession of the
premises, and to make sure that no more business was transacted in the
shop, was encamped in the back parlor. So keen was Nell's dread of even
the sound of the dwarfs voice, that she lived in continual apprehension
of meeting him on the stairs, or in the passage, and seldom stirred from
her grandfather's room.

At length the old man began to mend--he was patient and quiet, easily
amused, and made no complaint, but his mind was forever weakened, and he
seemed to have only a dazed recollection of what had happened. Even when
Quilp told him that in two days he must be moved out of the shop, he
seemed not to take it to heart, wandering around the house, a very child
in act and thought. But a change came over him on the second evening; as
he and little Nell sat silently together. He was moved--shed
tears--begged Nell's forgiveness for what he had made her suffer--seemed
like one coming out of a dream--and urged her to help him in acting upon
what they had talked of doing long before.

"We will not stop here another day," he said, "we will go far away from
here. We will travel afoot through the fields and woods, and by the side
of rivers, and trust ourselves to God in the places where He dwells. It
is far better to lie down at night beneath an open sky than to rest in
close rooms, which are always full of care and weary dreams. Thou and I
together, Nell, may be cheerful and happy yet, and learn to forget this
time, as if it had never been."

"We will be happy," cried the child. "We never can be, here!"

"No, we never can again--never again--that's truly said," rejoined the
old man. "Let us steal away to-morrow morning, early and softly, that we
may not be seen or heard--and leave no trace or track for them to follow
by. Poor Nell! Thy cheek is pale, and thy eyes are heavy with watching
and weeping for me; but thou wilt be well again, and merry too, when we
are far away. To-morrow morning, dear, we will turn our faces from this
scene of sorrow, and be as free and happy as the birds."

The child's heart beat high with hope and confidence. She had no thought
of hunger or cold, or thirst, or suffering. She saw in this a relief
from the gloomy solitude in which she had lived, an escape from the
heartless people