At this remark Tom grinned from ear to ear. His teeth were white and regular. They gleamed in his pretty mouth like little pearls; thus the heart-whole smile he threw up at the old gentleman did more for him than all the tears in the world.
"Well, little fellow," he said, smiling back, for he could not help himself, "'tis much too cold now to pull out my purse—for I know you have pence about you—but if you like to call at my house to-morrow morning,—Russell Square, you shall have a penny."
"Please, sir, mayn't I call to-day?"
"No, I shan't be home until ten o'clock this evening."
"Give us a penny, please, now, sir, for I'm real, real 'ungry." This time poor Tom very nearly cried.
"Well, well! what a troublesome, pertinacious boy! I suppose I'd better get rid of him—see, here goes——"
He pulled his purse out of his pocket—how Tom hoped he would give him twopence!
"There, boy. Oh, I can't, I say. I have no smaller change than a shilling. I can't help you, boy; I have not got a penny."
"Please, please, sir, let me run and fetch the the change."
"Well, I like that! How do I know that you won't keep the whole shilling?"