'Good evening, my lad,' said James Wyley, smiling a slow, reluctant
smile, as Stephen drew near to them with his cap in his hand. 'So you
buried your father yesterday, I hear. Poor fellow! there was not a better
collier at Botfield than James Fern.'
'Never troubled his parish for a sixpence,' added Thomas Wyley.
'Thank you, master,' said Stephen, the tears starting to his eyes, so
unexpected was this gentle greeting to him; 'I'll try to be like father.'
'Well, my boy,' said Thomas Wyley, 'we are come up here on purpose to
give you our advice, as you are such a mere lad. I've been thinking what
can be done for you. There's your grandfather, a poor, simple, helpless
old man, and the little girl--why, of course we shall have to receive
them into the House; and I'll see there is no difficulty made about it.
Then we intend to get your sister into some right good service.'
'I should not mind taking her into my own house,' said the master, Mr.
James Wyley; 'she would soon learn under my niece Anne. So you will be
set free to get your own living without encumbrance; you are earning your
six shillings now, and that will keep you well.
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