Melina read no further, but closed the book and sat thinking. "I suppose real Christians always love one another," she reflected, "and are kind to everybody. There's the little gentleman—he's a Christian, I know; and Mrs. Jones—I think she's one; and Agnes Brown and her mother—ah, yes, they're Christians too! I've wondered why they're all so kind to me; of course it's because they take Jesus for their example. Miss Seymour told us last Sunday we all ought to do that, but I can't—not altogether! I can't forgive people who're rude to me, though I can hold my tongue and not answer back; and—I can't forgive Gran—she's a cruel old woman to serve me like this! Very likely she won't be back till quite late, and she won't care whether I'm hungry or not."
Her lips quivered, and a few miserable tears rolled down her cheeks; but a minute later she started to her feet and ran to the window, for someone had flung a handful of gravel against the glass. Looking out she saw William Jones in the yard of the adjoining cottage; he was gazing up at her with a broad smile on his face, so, flinging up the window, she addressed him in anything but a friendly tone.
"William Jones, was it you who did that?" she demanded, and, without giving him time to reply, went on: "If you'd broken the glass there'd have been a dreadful row with Gran—she'd have made you pay for it; but there, I dare say you'd have gone away and said it wasn't you—"
"Oh, come now," the boy broke in, growing very red and looking indignant, "it's too bad of you to make out I'd behave like that! What you must think of me! I don't tell lies, Melina Berryman. If I'd broken your window I should have owned up, but the handful of gravel I threw couldn't have hurt."
"Why did you do it?" Melina asked.
"Because I wanted to speak to you. I guessed you might be up there, and I knew your grandmother was out, for I met her not ten minutes ago walking towards the town. I say, are you locked in?"
"Yes," the little girl assented, "and I don't suppose Gran'll be back for ages. The worst of it is she hasn't left me anything to eat."
"What! Oh, now that's too bad! Shameful, I call it! Do you mean to say there's no food in the house?"
"Oh yes! But I can't get at it—even the bread loaf's locked away."
William Jones' face expressed the sympathy he felt; seeing which Melina forgot how often he had teased her in the past, and allowed her heart to soften towards him.