Then there came the opening of the kitchen door and the sound of footsteps on the stair, and then Mrs Sucksby''s voice, calling for me. I didn''t answer. I heard her walk to the bedrooms below, and look for me there; then there was a silence, then her feet again, upon the attic stairs, and then came the light of her candle. The climb made her sigh a little—only a little, for she was very nimble, for all that she was rather stout.
''Are you here then, Sue?'' she said quietly. ''And all on your own, in the dark?''
She looked about her, at all that I had looked at—at the coins and the sealing-wax, and Gentleman''s boots and leather bag. Then she
came to me, and put her warm, dry hand to my cheek, and I said— just as if she had tickled or pinched me, and the words were a chuckle or a cry I could not stop—I said:⊿⊿
''What if I ain''t up to it, Mrs Sucksby? What if I can''t do it? Suppose I lose my nerve and let you down? Hadn''t we ought to send Dainty, after all?''
She shook her head and smiled. ''Now, then,'' she said. She led me to the bed, and we sat and she drew down my head until it rested in her lap, and she put back the curtain from my cheek and stroked my hair. ''Now, then.''
''Ain''t it a long way to go?'' I said, looking