strained face, so young and so suffering, drew a look of kind sympathy from the lady. She read in it an appeal.
"Yes, I would, Ellie," she said softly to her little daughter, as they came abreast of the carriage. But she did not stop. The girl did.
Before Bertrand knew what was happening, she had come up to him and was saying something in English. He had learned very little English, and, in the surprise of the moment, that little forsook him. He simply lay and gazed at her, feeling as if a fairy-tale had come true.
His silence troubled the little girl, who took it to mean denial.
She had asked him if he would like a few wild flowers, and he did not say yes—he just kept still and looked at her with his big, strangely sorrowful eyes. He must think her rude to speak to him when he did not know who she was. It was horrid of him not to answer! Her lips began to
