COURTYARD OF THE HOTEL.
But things were not to be quite so bad as this. Every one began to unpack such little stores as they had. One of the ladies had a tin of biscuits, another had some sandwiches, another some soda-water, and some one found a little hoard of concentrated milk.
Little enough among so many. But He who once fed a multitude on five barley loaves and two small fishes, put it into the hearts of all to be unselfish and to think of their neighbours' need before their own. And so the little store went farther than we could have believed possible.
Hugh's mother brought him a share.
"No. There are not beds and suppers enough for the girls and the babies," he said, trying to look very brave, though his lip quivered; "and I am a boy."
It was with difficulty he was persuaded to take a sandwich and a little wine-and-water. Directly he had swallowed it, he took a little blanket, which no one seemed to want, and went away. And our next sight of Hugh was rolled up in his blanket, and sleeping quietly on the floor under the table in the billiard-room.
Did you ever try to pack bricks into a box all but too small for them? That would be a joke compared to our task. However, we were all bent on lying down somewhere and somehow, and we managed it.
Lucy's mother was very delicate, and, by common consent, she was made to take one of the best couches. Lucy had part of a tiny one near a window.
"I do thank God for my bed to-night," Lucy whispered. "Oh, how sorry I am for all the poor little children who have no beds! I never thought what it was to have a bed till to-night, when it seemed as if we should get none. Has Hugh got a bed?"