"I will try," replied Phil. "At what time ought I to be there?"
"The train leaves at one o'clock, but you had better be at the station by half-past twelve. Is that an inconvenient hour for you?"
"I think I can manage it," said Phil. "We are not busy at the shop in the middle of the day. I dare say they'll give me extra time if I stay later at night to make up for it."
"Very well, then, I shall consider it settled. Stay, here is a shilling to pay for the cab."
"The box won't be heavy. I can carry it, thank you," said Phil, drawing back.
Miss Crawford saw that he preferred to be independent, and did not press the matter.
"Now, Phil," she said, as he rose to leave, "I have a parcel for you to take home. It is a present for Millie."
The boy crimsoned to the very roots of his hair.
"You are very kind, Miss Crawford," he stammered, "but uncle gave Millie some money last night to get some things for herself. I—I think she has everything, thank you. You have been—you are—" In his pride and his confusion Phil broke down.
"Phil," said Miss Crawford, laying her soft white hand on his shoulder, "I understand you, and I admire your independent spirit. But don't you know that we are put into the world to bear one another's burdens, and to help each other? But how can I help you, if you won't let me? If I were poor, and you were rich, would you not give to me?"