Mr. Sansoucy looked at the child for some moments
in silence, and there was so much odd and humorous pity
and tenderness in his face, that Ellie found her voice came

[figure description] Page 101.[end figure description]

back to her, and the tears in her eyes, trembling on the
long lashes, did not fall.

“Well,” said Mr. Sansoucy, “if you could only see
your uncle warm and comfortable—”

“Oh, I should be so happy, sir!” said Ellie.

“Would you?”

“Oh, yes, sir—I got some work and the money went a
great way with us,” she went on, “and what you gave me,
sir, so kindly, bought uncle's medicines and tea; but we
have to spend so much!”

“Continue,” said Mr. Sansoucy, gazing at a bust of
Zeno, the stoic, and beating time upon his chair.

“I worked as long as I could, sir,” continued the child,
“and I tried to do my duty. But uncle is no better, and
our wood gave out—and Charley is crying now, I am
afraid. Oh, I tried to get some work, and I have tried to-day,
and, indeed, indeed, I never could have come to beg,”
a hectic flush accompanied the word, “if uncle was not
suffering. If you could give me anything to do for you—
some sewing!—I can sew very well—or anything—and—
pay me just a little money in advance—for uncle—not
me—”

And choked with tears, Ellie bent down and cried her
old silent cry; and then dried her eyes, or tried to, with
her fingers. Before she knew it, Mr. Sansoucy's white
handkerchief was assisting the fingers, and with a savage
look at the bust of Zeno, the gentleman rose.

“Now, Ellie,” said Mr. Sansoucy, “now that you have
stopped that, we will repair to the abode of Uncle Joe.”

[figure description] Page 102.[end figure description]

“Oh, will you go with me!” cried Ellie, rising and
clasping her hands.

“Certainly, I will.”

“To uncle, sir?”

“Exactly.”

“How good and kind you are!” exclaimed the child,
with a look of tender gratitude, which went straight to the
stoic's heart.

“Pshaw!” said Mr. Sansoucy, pulling on his overcoat
in a business-like way. “I'm going down that way: I
have business there this afternoon. Where did you say it
was?” added Mr. Sansoucy, abstractedly.

Before Ellie could reply, he burst into a laugh.

“It is not so far, sir,” murmured Ellie.

“No, but so cold, mam'selle!”

“Sir?”

“Nothing!” said Mr. Sansoucy, declining to translate,
“now stand still, my dear little lady, and let us see if we
can't supply the place of that shawl, or other wrapping,
alienated from you, by your friend, the pawnbroker.”

Ellie would have refused—denying that it was too cold
for her—but to any demur upon her part, Mr. Sansoucy
paid no attention.

“There is a coat,” he said, opening a closet, “but you
would attract public attention; everybody would laugh at
you, and my friends would laugh at me—which is one of
the most awful and terrible misfortunes which can happen.”

“Oh, I don't think I want—”

“Then that dressing-gown,” continued Mr. Sansoucy,
thoughtfully, “that might do.”

[figure description] Page 103.[end figure description]

“Oh, no, sir, I never could—”

“But that would be a small edition of myself in petti—
no, that word is not to be mentioned in polite society.
The dressing gown decidedly won't do.”

Ellie tried to interpose again: but she was arrested by
Mr. Sansoucy, who suddenly caught at a large, heavy
shawl, such as are worn by travellers, and dragged it into
the light, as though it had been a malefactor lurking in
the closet with felonious intentions.

“Try on that, little girl; and stay, let me aid you.”

Ellie could not resist: indeed, her resistance was very
faint, for the freezing cold without, came vividly to her
memory, and she looked longingly at the warm, heavy
shawl.

“There, it is folded to suit mam'selle's shoulders,” said
Mr. Sansoucy, smiling, “and now put it on—well around
the shoulders.”

Ellie did so with a grateful blush; and before she could
thank him, found her neck enveloped in a thick, heavy
comfort, which Mr. Sansoucy cautioned the child to wrap
in such a way that nothing should be visible but her nose.

Ellie, with tears of gratitude in her eyes, submitted to
this, and to all of Mr. Sansoucy's directions; and then he
led the way out.

“It is probable,” he said, as he locked the door, “that
an emissary from the paper will speedily arrive here in
pursuit of my editorial; in which case, this landing here
will be an eligible platform for him to wait and kick his
heels upon. One of the most serene and pleasant sensations
in the world, my little friend, is that derived from

p506-109 [figure description] Page 104.[end figure description]

making the press wait for copy—I have frequently experienced
this pleasure. Now let us get on, for the afternoon
is growing colder and darker! Come!”

So saying, Mr. Sansoucy led the way down the steep
flight of stairs, followed by Ellie; and they reached the
bleak and frozen streets.

“Did any body ever see so black a day,” said the journalist,
“it's as dark as a waif's mouth. Come, my little
friend—we've no time to lose!”

And taking Ellie's hand, Mr. Sansoucy went forth with
his small companion on his mission.