“Why, certainly,” replied Mrs. Rand, cordially. “Have you had supper, sir?”
“I wouldn’t like to trouble you, ma’am.”
“It will be no trouble. I can make some tea in five minutes. Chester, take out the bread and butter and cold meat from the closet.”
So before he went to bed the homeless wayfarer was provided with a warm meal, and the world seemed brighter and more cheerful to him.
CHAPTER IV.
A DYING GIFT.
In the morning Walter Bruce came down to breakfast looking pale and sick. He had taken a severe cold from scanty clothing and exposure to the winter weather.
“You have a hard cough, Mr. Bruce,” said Mrs. Rand, in a tone of sympathy.
“Yes, madam; my lungs were always sensitive.”