human
Come to us? No, miss, you didn't but we come to you,
gpt
I want to know about it, please; I do not understand at all how I am at Lynthorpe.
human
Where was you when you was took bad?
gpt
The last I distinctly remember is of being a mile and a half from Rotherhithe.
human
Lor-a-musy! and didn't nobody give ye a seat in their wagon down here? Did you walk all the way, and so light of head like?
gpt
I remember of being lost on a common outside of Rotherhithe, she answered,
human
What date was it, dear miss, that you was lost on the moor? Can ye mind that?
gpt
It was the seventh of October.
human
Just think o' that now! It was two days after that when I found you sitting at the foot of a hay-rick in Farmer Bracon's land, a mile from here. You was a sorry sight, but I know'd yer again, and came close to yer. You was neither sleeping nor not sleeping, but whispering to yourself; so I brought you home to the wife, and she and me we've nursed ye through, thank heaven! And here's the papers as was found on ye, miss, by the wife, rising and producing them from a carefully-locked little box in the cupboard;
gpt
Heaven is taking great care of me, and I have much to be thankful for. Kind John Doane and his wife, for instance.
human
Is it Betsy and me that you want to be thankful for? You as is our guarding angel, what made a man of Johnnie as can read most as well as the curate himself. And haven't every one of the nine of us, down to the babby, felt as if we had a angel under the roof for the last three weeks?
gpt
Have I been three weeks ill?
human
Three weeks, dear miss; seven days of 'em you wasn't in your head at all, and Dr. Ramsey weren't easy about you--weren't easy at all. It were inflammation of the brain.
gpt
And you out of your pittance--you have nursed me through all this?
human
And proud to do it, miss.
gpt
But if I had died, who would make up to you the doctor's bill, or your own ease?
human
Dear miss, don't! His hard hand went up to wipe the starting tears.
gpt
If you had died, it's not us as would stop our mourning to think of the mite you cost us. You ain't like the rest of the Peerage--you comes down to we; you had a heart, so you had, and felt for we, and we never forgets that.
human
Kind John Doane, how shall I repay you?