"Um!" said John, who had made nothing at all. "We'll go and get a good breakfast and then we'll be fit for anything, won't we. Come on."
They turned round the corner into King Street, and there to their delight found the shops one by one opening their eyes—drapers, chemist, fruiterers, and then at last a shop with cakes in the window.
The children stood at the door and peeped in. They saw myriads of white tables and a couple of sleepy looking girls. One girl held a broom and was leaning on its handle and surveying the stretch of floor to be swept. Her eyes at last went to the door, and Betty, seeing they had been observed walked slowly in, leaving John outside.
"No," said the girl, shaking her head.
"We want some breakfast," said Betty, and added "please," as her eyes fell on a trayful of pastry on the counter.
Again the girl shook her head.
"Can't give you any here," she said; "now run away."
Then Betty's face flushed; for though one may sing to earn an honest livelihood and competency, it is quite another thing to be taken for a beggar.
"We'll pay for it," she said, and then forgot her pride and urged, "Go on, we're so hungry! We've been walking about since five o'clock."
Something in the child's face touched the girl's heart. She herself had been up at half-past five and knew a great deal about poverty and privation.