“Would you like to?”
Still he did not speak, but a look of rapture dawned in the wistful child eyes, and he gave a little spring in the air which was more eloquent than words.
“Six-pennyworth,” said Frithiof to the costermonger; then signing to the child to follow, he led the way into the park, sat down on the nearest seat, put the basket of strawberries down beside him, and glanced at his little companion.
“There, now, sit down by me and enjoy them,” he said.
And the child needed no second bidding, but began to eat with an eager delight which was pleasant to see. After awhile he paused, however, and shyly pushed the basket a little nearer to his benefactor. Frithiof, absorbed in his own thoughts, did not notice it, but presently became conscious of a small brown hand on his sleeve, and looked round.
“Eat too,” said the child, pointing to the basket.
And Frithiof, to please him, smiled and took two or three strawberries.
“There, the rest are for you,” he said. “Do you like them?”
“Yes,” said the child emphatically; “and I like you.”
“Why do you like me?”