tea, while Larry answered the question about the young person, by pulling in the little shy Norah.
"Oh, Norah, dear," said Mrs. M'Curdy, "you should not be coming in, child, and the gentleman in such pain—may be children trouble you, sir."
"I am not over fond of children, that's certain," said Mr. Price, "but I should not imagine this nice little girl, who seems so unwilling to intrude, could be noisy or troublesome. Let her go, Larry—I believe that's your name—let her hand go."
Off darted the little girl, much to Mr. Price's gratification; and much to Larry's joy. After getting the gentleman snugly to bed, he received a dollar for his evening's services, with a request to call in the morning and assist him to rise.
But the morning found Mr. Price, although able to rise, in so much pain that there was no hope of proceeding on his journey; he, therefore, after securing Larry's services during those intervals allotted to the labourers at the forge, quietly settled it in his mind that here he must remain until the ankle recovered its strength. Mrs. M'Curdy was gentle, neat and attentive; anticipating his wants, and only wishing that more was to be done. But Mr. Price was neither troublesome nor ungracious, and before the dinner hour approached she wondered how so good-natured a gentleman could dislike children.
"To be sure," said she, finishing her thoughts aloud, "Larry's little ones are very noisy, and not over clean, and poor Jemmy's are still worse than noisy; for they are rude and mischievous. But Norah is not like other children, sir, and she knows a world of stories, your honour, if it is stories out of books would amuse you. Sure will you try and coax the little creature in to sit by you a bit, till I come back from the grocer; and if she tires you, just let her go when Larry comes in."
