"No," said Chester, answering the appealing glance of his wife, "it might do harm."
The little girl gently closed her eyes, and thus shut out the sight of food.
"Are you sleepy?" said Mrs. Chester.
"No," replied the child, almost with a sob. "I only would rather not look that way; it makes me long for another piece."
Tears gushed through her black eyelashes as she spoke, and rolled down her cheek.
"Wait a little while. In an hour—shall I say an hour, John?" said
Mrs. Chester, deeply moved.
Chester nodded his head; he did not like to trust his voice just then.
"Well," said the generous woman; "in an hour you shall have something more; a cake, perhaps, and a cup of warm milk."
The child opened her eyes, and through their humid lashes flashed a gleam that made Mrs. Chester's heart thrill.
"Now," she said, rising cheerfully, "we must make up some sort of a nest for the little creature. Let me see, the bolster and pillows from our bed, with a thick blanket folded under them, and four chairs for a bedstead; that will do very nicely. You remember, Chester, when our Isabel was ill, she fancied that sort of bed before anything. Would you like to sleep that way, my dear?"