e up enough to build up our
old house, but that won't be yet awhile--for years maybe; and he could
not do it without me to help him."

"And what's to become of you when you've let your best years go by
a-toiling for him, and your chance is gone by, and his wife turns you to
the door?" said Master Luck, not very delicately.

"That God will provide," said Patience, reverently. "Anyway, I must
cleave to Steadfast though 'tis very good of you, Master Luck and Master
Andrew, and I never could have thought of such a thing, and I am right
sorry for the little ones."

"If you would only come and see them!" burst out the poor young father.
"You never see such a winsome little poppet as Bess. And they be so
young now, they'd never know you were not their own mother."

"Don't, don't, Master Andrew!" cried Patience, "I tell you I'd come if I
could, but you can't wait, and they can't wait; and you must find a good
mother at once for them, for I have passed my word to hold by Stead till
he is married, and I must keep to it."

"Very well, my lass," said the miller, grimly. "There's wenches better
portioned and better favoured than you, and I hope you won't have to
repent of missing a good offer."

Of course he said it as if he hoped she would. Patience cried heartily
when they were gone. Ben came up to her and glowered after them,
declaring he wouldn't have his Patty go to be only a step-mother to
troublesome brats; but Stead, when he came to know of it, looked grave,
and said it was very good of Pat; but he wished she could have kept the
young fellow in play till she was ready for him.

Goody Grace, who was looking after the children till the stepmother
could be found, came and expostulated with Patience, telling her she was
foolish to miss such a chance, and that she would find out her mistake
when Stead married and that little flighty, light-headed wench made the
place too hot to hold her. What would she do then?

"Come and help you nurse the folk, Goody," said Patience, cheerfully.

Her heart would fail her sometimes at the outlook, but she was too busy
to think much about it. Only the long evenings had been pleasanter when
Stead used to teach Ben to read Dr. Eales's books and tell her bits such
as she could understand than now when he grudged a candle big enough
to be of any use, and was only plaiting rushes and reckoning up what
everything would bring.

Ben was a bright little fellow, and could read as well as his bro