Aunt Rob broke in upon him. "You ought to be ashamed of yourself for letting a hungry child stand alone in the cold streets all this time." Out she ran to pounce upon Gracie.
"Do you mean to tell me," said Dick, gazing after her, "that the Lord will allow any harm to come to a woman like that, or trouble that can't be cleared away to come to anyone she loves? No, no; the world wouldn't be worth living in if that were so. Where she is, sunshine is, and love, and charity, and hope--and justice. God bless Aunt Rob!"
And "God bless Aunt Rob!" they all said, with something shining in their eyes.
Back she came, holding Gracie by the arm. They all looked kindly at the child.
"Any trouble to get her here, aunt?" asked Dick, cheerily.
"Not a bit."
"It's all right, you know, Gracie," he said.
"Yes, Dick, I know," she answered, solemnly.
There was something so patient and uncomplaining, so piteous and brave, in the child that hearts less susceptible than theirs could not have failed to be touched. Florence stooped and kissed her, and there was a little trembling of her bloodless lips; it was the only sign of emotion she displayed, and it was gone in a moment. The dry, hoarse cough had not left her, and she was not successful in keeping it back. Every time it sounded through the room Aunt Rob shivered.
"You men had best go into the next room and settle your business," she said; "you haven't too much time to spare, and we don't want you meddling with women's affairs." Away they went, meekly. "Gracie, you sit here, and don't be shy with us, my dear, we're only homely people, the same as yourself. Florence, put another spoonful of tea in the pot, and there's the kettle boiling, just in the nick of time. Now, my dear, you make a good breakfast--I want you to drink your tea as hot as you can, it will ease your cough--it's Dick's cup you're drinking out of, you won't mind that, I know--he's told us such a lot about you, and everything that's good--cut some more bread and butter, Florence--are you fond of jam, Gracie?--but what a question!--when I was a little girl I could eat a pot, only they wouldn't give me so much at a time--this is Dick's favourite jam, raspberry----" And all the time the good woman chattered she was putting food before Gracie, and coaxing her to eat, shaking her head at the child's attempts not to cough violently, and shaking her head more when she put her hand on the bosom of the poor little frock, and discovered how thinly she was clad. And all the time Gracie sat quiet at the table and ate, not greedily but gratefully, her eyes fixed now on Aunt Rob, and now on Florence, with the sweet thought in her mind, "Dick's told 'em a lot about me, and everything that's good!"