d to call her
Madam, ye know--was goin' her ways to the ship as was to take her to
France, I took you after her mysel' down to the shore that she might
have the very last of ye. Eh, I mind it as if it were yesterday.
Mester Adrian was to go with her--Sir Adrian, I should say, but he was
but Mester Adrian then--an' a two three more o' th' gentry as was all
fur havin' a share o' th' fightin'. Sir Thomas himsel' was theer--I
like as if I could see him now, poor owd gentleman, talkin' an'
laughin' very hard an' jov'al, an' wipin' 's e'en when he thought
nobody noticed. Eh, dear, yes! I could ha' cried mysel' to see th'
bonny young lady goin' off fro' her bairns. An' to think she niver
came back to them no more. Well, well! An' Mester Adrian too--such a
fine well-set-up young gentleman as he were--and _he_ niver comed back
for ten year an' when he did, he was that warsened--" she stopped,
shook her head and groaned.

"Well, but how about me, nurse," observed Molly, "what about _me_?"

"Miss, please it was this way. Madam was wantin' a last look at her
bairn--eh, she did, poor thing! You was allus her favoryite, ye know,
miss--our Sally was wet-nurse to Miss Maddyline, but Madam had you
hersel'. Well, miss, I'd brought you well lapped up i' my shawl an'
William Shearman--that was Thomas Shearman's son, feyther to William
an' Tom as lives over yonder at Pulwick village--well, William was
standin' in 's great sea-boots ready to carry her through th' surf
into the boat; an' Mester Adrian--Sir Adrian, I mean--stood it might
be here, miss, an' there was Renny, an' yon were th' t'other gentry.
Well, Madam stopped an' took you out o' my arms, an' hugged you to her
breast--an' then she geet agate o' kissin' you--your head an' your
little 'ands. An' you was jumpin' an' crowin' in her arms--the wind
had blown your cap off, an' your little downy black hair was standing
back. (Just let me get at your hair now, miss, please--Eh! it's cruel
full of sand, my word, it is.)"

"It's 'ard, when all's said an' done, to part wi' th' babe ye've
suckled, an' Madam, though there was niver nought nesh about 'er same
as there is about most women, an' specially ladies--she 'ad th'
mother's 'eart, she 'ad, miss, an when th' time coom for her to leave
th' little un, I could see, as it were, welly burstin'. There we stood
wi' th' wind blowin' our clothes an' our 'air, an' the waves roarin',
an' one bigger nor th' t'others ran up till th' foam reached M