They were yet seated in the same place, when the grandfather
approached. Before they had spoken many words together, the church
clock struck the hour of school, and their friend withdrew.
'A good man,' said the grandfather, looking after him; 'a kind man.
Surely he will never harm us, Nell. We are safe here, at last, eh?
We will never go away from here?'
The child shook her head and smiled.
'She needs rest,' said the old man, patting her cheek; 'too pale--
too pale. She is not like what she was.'
When?' asked the child.
'Ha!' said the old man, 'to be sure--when? How many weeks ago?
Could I count them on my fingers? Let them rest though; they're
better gone.'
'Much better, dear,' replied the child. 'We will forget them; or,
if we ever call them to mind, it shall be only as some uneasy dream
that has passed away.'
'Hush!' said the old man, motioning hastily to her with his hand
and looking over his shoulder; 'no more talk of the dream, and all
the miseries it brought. There are no dreams here. 'Tis a quiet
place, and they keep away. Let us never think about them, lest
they should pursue us again.
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