“Good-night,” she said, curtly, then she looked about her.
O, the bitter envy and discontent of her face! The Judge averted his eyes. It was not pleasant to see that expression on the face of a child, for she was scarcely more.
“Why hev you got all this?” she said, suddenly, “and why hev I nothin’?”
The Judge made no reply except that of a mournful shake of his head.
“And why,” she went on, leaning eagerly forward from her chair and pinching the thin sleeve of her jacket, “do I hev to wear shoddy cloth an’ you wear broadcloth?”
“Only Oxford cloth,” said the Judge, protestingly, “only Oxford in this house suit.”
“How much did you pay for it?” she asked, grimly.
He made no reply, and she continued. “How much did you lay out on that diamond neck pin; how much did your house cost and this fine furniture?”
The Judge discreetly evaded an answer by a protesting wave of his hand, and at the same time thought that a few months previous to this he would have bowed the saucy little girl from the room. Now, although he wanted to get back to his reading, and he gazed wistfully at the heap of new literature on his table, he was really anxious to hear what the girl had to say. Something lay under this—so much he had learned of youthful ways. How the little wretches understood that he was interested in their confidences. They were as sharp as grown people.
“My girl,” he said, kindly, “what have you come here for?”