Doubtless our position made their own appear all the pleasanter.

For myself it mattered little; but for this poor, desolate, homeless, wayfaring lad to stand in sight of their merry nursery window, and hear the clatter of voices, and of not unwelcome dinner-sounds--I wondered how he felt it.
Just at this minute another head came to the window, a somewhat older child; I had met her with the rest; she was only a visitor.

She looked at us, then disappeared.

Soon after, we saw the front door half opened, and an evident struggle taking place behind it; we even heard loud words across the narrow street.
"I will--I say I will." "You shan't, Miss Ursula." "But I will!" And there stood the little girl, with a loaf in one hand and a carving-knife in the other.

She succeeded in cutting off a large slice, and holding it out.
"Take it, poor boy!--you look so hungry.