"Another sou?" said Laurence. "But I have not got one. Emma, have you got one?"
Emma had nothing at all in her pocket. It was stupid of her, but she had not thought of bringing her purse. However it was so little, and she began asking the clerk in her very bad French, mixed with German words, to let the little gentleman have the pincushion for a franc.
The clerk shook his head.
"At least," said poor Laurence, "let me have it now and I will bring the sou to-morrow, or my mamma will send it."
Again the man shook his head. Perhaps he was in a bad temper, perhaps he did not feel the more good-natured because he may have thought the boy and his nurse were German. For at that time the French nation did not love Germans. Let us hope they have learnt better since.
"Pass on, sir," he said sharply, "you are blocking the way," and the people standing round began to laugh. The tears rose to the little boy's eyes.
"Oh! what shall I do?" he cried, "and to-morrow is Isabel's birthday."
Then came a little voice beside him.
"Sir—may I offer it? Will you accept this sou from me?" and a small hand held out the coin. It was little Gay.
"Oh thank you, thank you," exclaimed Laurence joyfully, and the grim clerk received the sou and the parcel was handed to him.