Behind Jim stood a little woe-begone creature in a ragged dress, her head covered by a large crumpled sun-bonnet. The tears were rolling down her face, and in her hand she held the bottom of a broken glass medicine bottle.
"Look here, grandmother," said Jim, "I picked up this unfort'net little mortal just outside the Lodge gates. She'd been into town to buy some lotion for her sick mother, and she went and fell up against a stone, and smashed her bottle; and now she's in a terrible state of mind about it."
The little girl was still crying bitterly; and Bobbie, who was very tender-hearted, furtively wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, and looked hard out of the window.
"Sit you down, child, and have some tea. You're fair worn out with misery," said Mrs. Funnel kindly. "After that we'll think of what's to be done. How much did the medicine cost, child?"
"Two shillings," said the child, with a fresh burst of sobbing.
Bobbie discovered, to his great annoyance, that two large tears had fallen down his own cheeks out of sympathy; and at the same moment he seemed to feel his little wash-leather purse growing so large, that he almost fancied in another moment it would burst out of his pocket.
Exactly two shillings were in it—the price of the bottle of lotion, or of two of Jim's guinea-pigs! Which should it be?
"If only I hadn't bought Maria's collar last Monday, I could have got you a bottle easily," cried Jerry, in great distress. "I've only twopence-halfpenny left, but do take it. Oh, you poor little girl, I am so sorry for you!"
Bobbie felt very guilty, and his money seemed to weigh upon him like lead. He watched the attractive brown guinea-pigs—who had been let out of their basket—gambol about the parlour. His mind was a chaos.
Suddenly he snatched out his purse, and thrust the two shillings into the little girl's hand, before she could say anything.