He watched the child from his corner. Ollie, after a moment's hesitation, came and climbed upon his knee. Poor Ralph felt a strange thrill at his heart. Poor Fred! Poor lost Fred! How often, when he was a handsome little fellow with fair curls, had he climbed up just as Ollie did, and laid his head where Ollie laid his now! If the boy had had fair hair, Ralph would have broken down.
Ruth looked about presently and said,—
"Where do you keep your table-cloths, sir?"
"I have none, Ruth."
"And a very good plan too," said Ollie; "then if one spills things it does not so much matter;" and Ollie nodded his head gravely, like one who has made up his mind.
Ruth said nothing, though her prejudices were decidedly in favour of table-cloths; but she looked at the table, which was stained and soiled. She got a cloth and some water in a quiet, business-like way, washed the table, dried it, laid the knives and forks in order, and then carefully heated the plates with hot water. Ralph felt a curious pleasure in watching her, she moved so quietly and was so handy-like Annie. Then she said, "May I take the dinner out of the oven, sir?"
"You'll burn yourself, I'm afraid," said Ralph.
The girl laughed—a little comfortable chuckle of amusement—at such a foolish notion. She opened the oven and peeped in, and in half a second the pie was safe on the table.
"I knew it was a pie!" said Ollie, triumphantly.
Ralph brought out bread, and filled a jug with water; they all sat down, and very soon the pie-dish only remained to witness that there had been a pie!