It was so unusual for him to yield to such emotion that he felt ashamed of the momentary weakness, and with a quick assumption of his ordinary manner turned to the little lad, saying briskly,—
"Well, good day. Don't forget that the Princess needs feeding. Give her plenty of milk and good beef-tea, if you can get it."
That if was very much to the point. A look came into the boy's eyes that made the doctor feel that his words were cruel in their carelessness. "I might as well have ordered her champagne and oysters," he said to himself. Then Dr. Hurst did something which astonished himself. He put his hand in his pocket, drew out a shilling and threw it on the bed.
"There, lad, spend that on milk or beef for the Princess. It is to go for nothing else, mind."
Bert nodded gravely as he picked up the coin. He looked wonderfully relieved. He stood gazing at the coin with an air of extreme satisfaction, and it did not occur to him to utter a word of thanks.
But the doctor felt that he had been abundantly thanked as he hurried away from the miserable room. He entered the children's names in his note-book ere he drove away.
"A case for Mrs. Thornton," he said to himself. "I must interest her in these young waifs."
[CHAPTER II]
A Fairy's Visit
THE Princess was better. She was no longer in bed. Mrs. Kay had helped her to rise and dress herself; and now, in her shabby, threadbare frock, with thin, broken shoes on her feet, she sat on a hard, wooden chair, beside the little handful of fire which Bert had managed to kindle in the rusty grate.