Mrs. Chester laughed, and the tears came into her eyes. "Poor thing! it is only because she is starved, that this tea and toast seem so delicious," she said, looking at her husband; "a small piece more. I must be careful, you know, John, and not give her too much at once," and breaking off what she deemed a scant portion of the toast, the kind woman gave it into the eager hands of the child. The little girl swallowed the morsel of toast greedily, and held out her hand again. Mrs. Chester shook her head and smiled through the tears that filled her eyes. A look of meek self-denial settled on the child's face. She dropped her hand, drew a deep breath, and tried to be content; but in spite of herself, those strange eyes wandered toward the food with intense craving. "No," said Chester, answering the appealing glance of his wife, "it might do harm." The little girl gently closed her eyes, and thus shut out the sight of food. "Are you sleepy?" said Mrs. Chester. "No," replied the child, almost with a sob. "I only would rather not look that way; it makes me long for another piece." Tears gushed through her black eyelashes as she spoke, and rolled down her cheek. "Wait a little while. In an hour--shall I say an hour, John?" said Mrs. Chester, deeply moved. Chester nodded his head; he did not like to trust his voice just then. "Well," said the generous woman; "in an hour you shall have something more; a cake, perhaps, and a cup of warm milk." The child opened her eyes, and through their humid lashes flashed a gleam that made Mrs. Chester's heart thrill. "Now," she said, rising cheerfully, "we must make up some sort of a nest for the little creature. Let me see, the bolster and pillows from our bed, with a thick blanket folded under them, and four chairs for a bedstead; that will do very nicely. You remember, Chester, when our Isabel was ill, she fancied that sort of bed before anything. Would you like to sleep that way, my dear?" "I don't know, ma'am; I ain't used to sleeping in a bed, lately," faltered the little girl, bewildered by all the gentle kindness that she was receiving. "Not used to sleeping in a bed!" cried Mrs. Chester, looking at her husband; "just fancy our Isabel saying that, Chester."