“How much money did you bring from the warehouse this morning, my gal?” said Dick suddenly, as he looked up from playing cat’s-cradle over a boot.
Jessie gazed at him in a frightened manner, and then dropped her head lower over her machine, while her hands trembled so that she could hardly direct her work.
“I say, Jessie, my gal, how much did you draw this morning?”
“None, father,” said Jessie, with a sob. And then, covering her face with her hands, she burst into a passion of weeping.
“Why, Jess, my gal—Jess!” cried Dick, dropping stirrup-leather and boot. “Here, you sir: here’s a penny. Go down to Wilson’s and get a pen’orth o’ wax.”
“But here is plenty, master,” said the boy.
“Go down to Wilson’s and get a pen’orth o’ wax,” said Dick sternly.
“Hadn’t I better go to Singley’s, sir? it ain’t half so far.”
“Go and get a pen’orth o’ wax at Wilson’s,” said Dick angrily. And he saw the boy off the premises before he crossed to Jessie.
“Why, what’s the matter, my pretty one?” he said tenderly.