"Never mind," she said, trying to speak cheerfully, though she did mind very much; "tell me what you want to speak to me about."
"Oh, I was only going to ask you if you like oranges," he replied; "do you?" Then, as she nodded, he continued: "They 're very nice and sweet now, and I bought a couple of beauties on my way home from school; one I've eaten, the other I've kept for you. Stand back!"
The little girl obeyed, and the next moment an orange, flung with unerring aim, came whizzing through the open window and rolled across the floor. She seized it, and returned to the window with a beaming countenance and sparkling eyes.
"Thank you," she said, with an unusually gracious smile. "I shan't mind going without my tea now. It looks a lovely orange, and what a size it is!"
"Well, eat it, and see if it's as good as it looks."
The boy watched her peel the orange and divide it into flakes. She ate one flake slowly and pronounced it delicious, then the rest, and when the last was gone, thanked him again. He had not expected her to be as grateful as she evidently was.
"Oh, don't say any more," he said; "I'm glad I thought of keeping it for you. I was half afraid that you wouldn't have it—"
"I was so hungry," Melina interposed, as though that fact explained the readiness with which she had accepted his gift. "I—" She paused abruptly, remembering the occasion on which, having made a similar confession to him, he had said he was sorry and she had retorted that more likely he was glad. How very rude she had been! "I can't think why you should have bothered about me!" she cried impulsively, "I've been horrid to you sometimes."
"And I've been horrid to you," he admitted; "it's always been on my mind about that tuppence you had to spend—"
"Oh," she broke in, "I'll tell you now! It wasn't my tuppence—it was the little gentleman's. He gave it to me. I—I oughtn't to have let you believe it was mine."