“Buy some papers with the money you give me.”
“What a self-reliant spirit the little chit has!” thought Captain Barnes. “I’ve known plenty of young men, who had less faith in their ability to cope with the world, and gain a livelihood, than she. Yet she has next to no clothes, and her entire capital consists of twenty-five cents. There is a lesson for the timid and despondent in her philosophy.”
Tom had no idea of what was passing in the mind of her companion. If she had been able to read his thoughts, it is not likely she would have understood them. Her own thoughts had become practical. She had had a good breakfast,—thanks to the kindness of her new friend,—but for dinner she must depend upon herself. She felt that it was quite time to enter upon the business of the day.
She put on her cap and rose to her feet.
“I’m goin’,” she said, abruptly.
“Where are you going?”
“To buy some papers. Thank you for my breakfast.”
It was probably the first time Tom ever thanked anybody for anything. I am not quite sure whether anybody before this had given her any cause for gratitude. Certainly, not granny, who had bestowed far less than she had received from the child, upon whom she had not been ashamed to be a selfish dependent. There was something, possibly, in her present companionship with a kind-hearted gentleman, something, perhaps, in her present more respectable surroundings, which had taught Tom this first lesson in good manners. She was almost surprised herself at the expression of gratitude to which she had given utterance.
“Stop a minute, Tom!” said the captain.
Tom had got half way to the door, but she stopped short on being called back.