"That's always a bad plan." He stooped down and pulled a straw bag towards him. "I couldn't eat all mine. My wife was too generous to me. P'raps you could help me out with it. I don't like to take any home—it kind of hurts my wife's feelings if I do. She thinks I'm ill, too. Can you finish up what's left?"
He unrolled a clean white cloth and laid it and its contents on Mona's lap.
"Could she!" Mona's eyes answered for her.
"Do you like bread and ham? It may be a trifle thick——"
"Oh!" gasped Mona, "I think bread and ham, thick bread and ham is nicer than anything else in the world!"
"Um! Peg away, then. And there's an orange, in case you're thirsty."
"Oh, you are kind!" cried Mona, gratefully. "And oh, I am so glad I met you, I don't believe I'd have got much further, I was feeling so faint."
"That was from want of food. Here, before you begin, hadn't you better put something about your shoulders. It's getting fresh now the sun's gone down, and when we get to the top of that hill we shall feel it. Have you got a coat, or a shawl, or something?"
"No, I haven't. I—I came away in a hurry—but I shall be all right. I don't mind the cold."
"I should think you were in too much of a hurry—to have forget your shawl, and your dinner, too. Wasn't there anybody to look after you, and see you started out properly?"