"No, not at all, little master; had a splendid dinner just now."
The poor fellow had just eaten half a cake of hard sea bread soaked in water.
"Because I've saved my dinner," said the child, "and we'll eat it together."
"Oh, little master, there never was but one angel like you that ever I saw."
"Mamma!" said Paul, softly, "you mean her, I know."
"Yes; who else?"
"I shall never be beautiful and kind like her, Jube—never! but, when she finds us, you will tell her how I have tried to be good and patient, Jube?"
"Yes, little master."
"How mournfully you say that. Are you crying, Jube?"
"Crying? no, no; don't you hear how I laugh?"