As she wondered in her old, old way, the voices of her mother and Mr. Kayll buzzed on until the buzz became fainter and fainter, as though it were getting further and further away, until it was inaudible in the far distance.
Amy’s head had sunk on the bed, and she was fast asleep.
CHAPTER V.
“STOP THIEF!”
MR. KAYLL had heard the whole long, sad story of the struggles of his cousin, Mrs. Coleson, to keep her children and herself from starving. He believed that even now she would not have asked for help, but that the illness of her youngest child and her own failing strength had compelled her to do so much against her will. There was no one else to whom she could go, for her only other relation, Mr. Coleson’s mother, although she was well off, was a very hard and proud old lady, who had long ago refused to have anything more to do with her daughter-in-law. In consequence, though he could ill afford it, Mr. Kayll lent her five pounds that he had intended for the use of his own family. With that sum the widow would be able to get on for a while, and he could only hope that she would never be brought quite so low again.
“At least,” he said, as he rose to go, and glanced at Amy as she slept with her head on her tiny sister’s pillow, “you have there a good and helpful little girl, who must be a great comfort to you.”
Mrs. Coleson smiled rather sadly.
“She is of more use than many a grown-up person,” she replied. “Poor Amy! It has been a hard life for her. She has scarcely known what it is to be a child.”
And then farewell for the present was said without disturbing the sleepers, and Mr. Kayll stood once more out under the stars. It was now half an hour after midnight. He heard a clock strike as he started homewards, feeling very sad and grave for him, for he was a man who was nearly always cheerful, even under circumstances that would have made most other people sit down and sigh over the hardness of their fate.