The sick girl heard, and her face brightened. It was an instinctive craving, such as a sick person sometimes has.
"I should enjoy an orange," she said, faintly. "I think I could sleep after eating one."
"I will go right out and get one."
Rupert put on his hat and went down stairs.
"You may buy a loaf of bread, Rupert," said his mother, as he was starting, "that is, if you have money enough."
"Yes, mother."
There was an Italian fruit vender's stall at the next corner. As he stepped out on the sidewalk Rupert took out his slender purse and examined its contents. It held but thirty-five cents, and this must last till Saturday night, when he would receive his weekly wages.
Going to the stand, he examined the Italian's stock. He saw some large, attractive oranges marked "five cents." There were some smaller ones marked three cents, but Rupert judged that they were sour, and would not please his sister. Yet five cents was considerable for him to pay under the circumstances. It represented one-seventh of his scanty stock of money.
"Won't you let me have one of these oranges for four cents?" he asked.