"God bless you, Miss Rachel!" was all Joe could reply.
Miss Rachel had her own way of doing things. It was nothing new for her to carry flowers and dainties to the sick poor. She had been much with sick people, and she knew that those who have no luxuries and few necessaries care for the things which do not really sustain life quite as much as do those who can command both.
CHAPTER III
PHIL HAS A VISITOR
Phil was alone, as indeed he was always, except on Sundays, or the few half-holidays that came to Lisa. Once in a while Lisa begged off, or paid another woman for doing an extra share of work in her place, if Phil was really
too ill for her to leave him. The hot sun was pouring into the garret room, though a green paper shade made it less blinding, and Phil was lying back in a rocking-chair, wrapped in a shawl. On a small table beside him were some loose pictures from a newspaper, a pencil or two, and an old sketch-book, a pitcher of water, and an empty plate.
The boy opened his closed eyes as Joe came in, after knocking, and looked surprised.
"Why, Joe, what is the matter?" he asked. "You do not come twice a day very often."
"No," said Joe, "Nor are you always a-sufferin' as you was this mornin'. I've come to know how you are, and to bring you that," said he triumphantly putting the nosegay before the child's eyes.