“‘On what, then?’
“‘O on what there is.’
“‘Exactly. And what is there?’
“‘Mrs. Binch gave father a string of blue fish the other night; and since then I have made porridge.’
“‘What sort of porridge?’
“‘Corn-meal porridge.’
“‘Why, Sue!—do you live on that?’
“‘Why, porridge is very good,’ said Sue, looking at him. But there was a change in his eye, and there came a glistening in hers; and then she threw suddenly her two arms round his neck and burst into a great fit of crying.
“If Roswald had been a man, his arm could not have been put round her with an air of more manly and grave support and protection; and there were even one or two furtive kisses, as if between boyish pride and affection: but affection carried it.