“No, no; the poor little things are all right. But you oughtn’t to have watched me, Severn.”
“I didn’t. I was coming to my desk to write a letter to my father, only I heard you sob.”
“Oh!” ejaculated the boy.
“Come: out with it. You know you can trust me.”
“Oh yes,” said the little fellow earnestly. “I know that, Severn. You always are such a good chap.”
“Well then, why don’t you tell me what’s the matter?”
“Because I was ashamed,” said the other, nearly in a whisper.
“Ashamed! You! What of?”
“Because it hurts so, and I couldn’t help crying,” faltered the boy; “and I came in here so as no one should see me. Don’t laugh at me, please!”
“Laugh at you because you are in trouble and something hurts you! You don’t think I should be such a brute?”