"It was for you, Nelly. I thought 't would warm yer. I wouldna 'ave done it for myself."
And again came the words, in a choking voice, "My poor Benny!"
"I didna think it wur so very wicked, seein' as you is so ill, Nelly. Is you very mad at me, Nell?"
"I's not mad, Benny, but I's sorry—oh, so sorry! I did not think——"
But here she broke off abruptly: she would utter no word of reproach, for she knew it was all out of love for her.
That evening she could eat no supper. Benny knew the reason and did not press her, but her silent grief nearly broke his heart. He would rather suffer anything himself than see his sister suffer. And yet now he had given her keener pain than words could tell.
In the middle of the night he awoke and found her sobbing by his side as though her little heart would break, and he knew that he was the cause of her grief.
"Don't take on so, Nell," he said, in a voice that had the sound of tears in it. And he drew her tear-stained face towards him and kissed her affectionately.
But she only sobbed the more.
"Do forgive me, Nell," he said. "I's very sorry."