Page:E Nesbit - The Literary Sense.djvu/82

70 something wrong. What is it? Do drink this, and then tell me. Perhaps I can help you."

She drank obediently. Then she said: "I have not had anything to eat since last night—"

He hurriedly cut cake and pressed it upon her. He had no time to think, but he was aware that this was the most exciting adventure that had ever happened to him.

"It's no use—and it all sounds so silly."

"Ah—but do tell me!" His voice was kinder than he meant it to be. Her eyes filled again with tears.

"You don't know how horrid everyone has been. Oh—I never knew before what devils people are to you when you're poor—"

"Is it only that you're poor? Why, that's nothing. I'm poor, too."

She laughed. "I'm not poor—not really."

"What is it, then? You've quarrelled with your friends, and— Ah, tell me—and let me try to help you."

"You are kind—but— Well, then—it's like this. My father brought me to England from the States a month ago: he's 'made his