Mr. Standish once more repressed an inclination to laugh at the child's precocious wisdom. He admitted there was truth in what she said. Once, three years ago, just before coming here, he had given all he had to a friend, and it had been of no use.
"Did you lend him much money?" asked Meg.
"Yes; he was in the greatest distress. I loved him, Meg. I would do it again if he came to me. If he was reckless, he was so handsome and so jolly. He came and told me all about his trouble. His father was very stern; he would not see him or help him. My friend wanted three hundred pounds. It was all the money that I had."
"And you gave it?" she said, and stopped.
He nodded.
"Did he never pay you back?" she faltered.
"Never, Meg. It is a sad story. There was some disgrace, and he died."
She did not speak; the fate of the stranger seemed to affect her but little.
"You gave him all your money?" she repeated, and again she paused; then she put out her hand and stroked his head, with a look of tender and ineffable admiration.