“Mamsey, there’s a young gemman,” he said, in an awed voice.
Bertie took off his hat, and went into the room with his prettiest grace.
“If you please, are you very ill?” he said, in his little soft voice, to the woman in bed. “I met—I met—a little girl who was so anxious about the baby, and I said I would come and see if I could be of any use——”
The woman raised herself on one elbow, and looked at him with eager, haggard eyes.
“Lord, little sir, there’s naught to be done for us;—leastways, unless you had a shillin’ or two——”
“I have no money,” murmured Bertie, feeling very unlike a little earl in that moment. The woman gave a weary angry sigh and sank back indifferent.
“Can I do nothing?” said Bertie, wistfully.
“By golly!” said the boy on the floor, “unless you’ve got a few coppers, little master——”
“Coppers?” repeated the little Earl.
“Pence,” said the boy, shortly; then the baby began to howl, and the boy shook it.