"Hum! not much stuff in that little chap," said Mr. Smith.
"He has been very ill," replied the mother, looking anxiously at her youngest child.
"Doctor's bill to pay, I suppose?"
"Yes," she answered hastily.
"Make haste, boy, and get well—sick boys are expensive things."
"What a queer man," said little Maurice.
"Come, Maury, come to mother's room, and I'll put you neat," said Ellen kindly, as she took his little thin hand and led him away.
Then Mr. Smith put on his spectacles and drew the paper from his pocket, and spoke no more until tea-time.
After that meal was over, the mother went out to deliver her parcel of work, and the two little girls sat down with their sewing.
Suddenly their lodger spoke: "Do you like stories, children?"