Just then some one softly touched his hand, and said: "Master Charles, I have been looking for you for more than an hour."
Charles looked up; but when he saw it was Giles Bloomfield who had come to seek him in his distress, he remembered how ill he had behaved to him, so he hid his face, and began to weep afresh.
Then Giles sat down by him on the steps, and said: "Dear Master Charles, you must not stay here. See how fast it snows. You will catch your death of cold."
"Yes, I am very cold and hungry," sobbed Charles, "but I have no home now; I have nowhere else to go, and must stay here all night."
"No, Master Charles," said Giles, "you shall come home with me, and shall share my supper and my bed, though it is not such as you have been used to; notwithstanding we are very poor, we will do our best to make you comfortable."
"Oh, Giles!" said Charles, throwing his arms round Giles's neck, "I do not deserve this kindness; I have been such a proud, wicked boy, and have treated you so ill. I am sure you can never forgive me for having taken your pretty Snowball; and if you forgive me, I can never forgive myself."
"Dear Master Charles, do not think of that now," said Giles, taking both Charles's cold hands in his. "Indeed, Master Charles, I should never dare say my prayers if I was so wicked as to bear malice; and, now you are in distress, I would do anything in my power to serve you. So pray come home with me, and warm yourself, and get some supper."
But Charles hid his face on Giles's bosom, and cried the more; at last he said:
"Giles, I am so ashamed of having behaved so cruelly to you, that I can never go to your home, and eat the food that you are obliged to labor so hard for."