He liked their fancy of making their poor little feast within scent of the roses. It was just such a fancy as she might have had herself. And he wanted to see what they had to depend on. He knew it must be little, and it touched him to know that, little as they had, they meant to share it with their poorer friend.
They went for the satchel, and when they did so they began to calculate as to what they could add to its contents. They were few things and poor ones.
He did not sit down, but stood by and watched them for a moment, when, having reached their sequestered nook, they began to spread out their banquet. It was composed of the remnant eggs, some bread, and a slice of cheese. It looked painfully scant, and Meg had an anxious eye.
"Is that all?" asked John Holt abruptly.
"Yes," said Meg. "We shall have to make it do."
"My Lord!" ejaculated John Holt suddenly in his blunt fashion. And he turned round and walked away.
"Where's he gone?" exclaimed Ben timidly.
But they none of them could guess. Nice as he had been, he had a brusque way, and perhaps he meant to leave them.
But by the time they had divided the eggs and the bread and cheese, and had fairly begun, he came
