While Bob Younger was conversing with the writer, a poor woman came into the room, sobbing, “Don't you know me?” she said, addressing Bob.
“No, madame, I have not that pleasure,” said Bob.
“Don't you know me?” reiterated the woman between her sobs.
“Indeed, I cannot recollect you, madame,” replied Bob, gently.
“Don't you remember the woman who gave you bread and butter?” she asked.
“Oh yes, certainly; and most thankful were we for it,” he replied.
“Oh, forgive me, sir,” she sobbed, “indeed, I did not intend to do it.”
“I have nothing to forgive,” said Bob; “you were very kind to us and we shall not forget it.”
“But forgive me, sir,” she persisted, “I did not mean to betray you.”
“Why, really, madam, we never supposed you did. We did not blame you at all. We are only very grateful for what you did for us.”