“Perhaps I oughtn’t to take any more, because—because—I’ve heard that when one has been without food—some time—it isn’t safe to eat much at first.”
Mrs. Howard looked startled. She half rose from her chair as she exclaimed:
“You poor child, you don’t mean to say——”
Fair answered, with a sob in her voice, brought there by the lady’s sympathy:
“I have had no food for three days—not even a crust of bread.”
The rich woman was appalled. Her eyes filled with moisture, and she could not speak for a moment, so intense was her pity for the lovely, child-like girl sitting before her, with those wide, pathetic eyes telling more than her words had revealed of misery and suffering.
Seeing that she could not speak, Fair continued sadly:
“I am an orphan, madam, and I have only one friend, and she is far away; so, as I had no money, I could get no food.”
Something whispered to her that perhaps this rich woman, who seemed so kind, would take pity on her, and help her in some way, and she went on, in her pathetic young voice:
“I am all alone in the world, madam. My mother died several weeks ago, and I sold all our room furniture and my clothes to bury her. All I have earned since then I have spent in food and a mourning dress. This morning I asked at the factory where I work for a small advance on my wages, but was refused. Perhaps—if I had—told them I was—was—starving—they would have given it to me, but—I could not.”