Blade-o'-Grass, whose wistful eyes had followed the strange likeness to herself, saw Ruth turn back, and dropped a curtsey as her sister in her warm soft dress stood before her.
Then said Ruth timidly, 'It was you who said that?' She herself might have been the suppliant, her voice and manner were so quiet and humble.
'Said what, miss?'
'That you hadn't a bit of bread in the cupboard.'
'It's true, miss, and to-morrow's Sunday.'
Ruth thought of what a happy day the Sabbath was to her and hers in Buttercup-square, the goodness of it, the peacefulness of it! And this forlorn girl before her, the sight of whom had so strangely unnerved her, had only one thought of that happy Sabbath to-morrow-whether she would be able to get bread to eat. Tears choked her voice as she asked, 'Will you tell me your name?'
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