They walked along together. With a taste of happiness, say once a week, Alice would have been a merry girl. She was so content to be with Richard that she never heeded where he was taking her. But when she found him going into a shop with a ham in the window, she drew back.
“No, Richard,” she said; “I can't let you feed me and Arthur too! Indeed I can't! It would be downright robbery!”
“Nonsense!” returned Richard; “I want some supper, and you must keep me company!”
“You must excuse me!” she insisted. “It's all right for Arthur: he's ill; but for me, I couldn't look myself in the face in the glass if I let you feed me—a strong girl, fit for anything!”
“Now look here!” said Richard; “I must come to the point, and you must be reasonable! Ain't you my sister?—and don't I know you haven't enough to eat?”
“Who told you that?”
“No one. Any fool could see it with half an eye!”
“Artie has been telling tales!”
“Not one! Just listen to me. I earn so much a week now, and after paying for everything, have something over to spend as I please. If you refuse me for a brother, say so, and I will leave you alone: why should a man tear his heart out looking on where he can't help!”
She stood motionless, and made him no answer.