Out of the house James Laurence went, putting on his thread-bare cap as he ran. The women he left looked at each other, and almost smiled, his enthusiasm was so contagious. “Where can he have gone, what is the boy thinking of,” said Eva, untying her shabby little bonnet, and sitting down in helpless expectation. Ruth looked up, smiling. She had great faith in little Jim, and, spite of all the sweet patience which made her character so lovely, thought, with keen physical longing, of the good which might possibly come out of his sudden resolution. “We never know what ideas our blessed Lord may give to a child,” she said; “besides, it does seem impossible that, in a country like this, God’s innocent creatures can be left to starve. I think Jim will come back at least with a loaf of bread; the man who refused us may trust him. Let us wait and see.” This sweet prophecy fell so tranquilly on the soft, summer air that, spite of themselves, these women began to hope. CHAPTER IV. LITTLE JIMMY GOES AFTER WORK. Little James Laurence gave himself no time for cowardly thoughts, but ran bravely towards a grocery store, where the family provisions had been bought in better times, but where all credit for their present necessities was now curtly refused. The proprietor of this store had fortunately gone out, and his wife stood behind the counter, serving a customer. She was a stout, matronly body, with clear, light-blue eyes, and a pleasant smile, which was turned with more than usual kindness on the boy as he entered almost upon the run. Something in that young face, in the large, eager eyes, and restless mouth, struck her with a vague idea of commiseration. When her customer went out, carrying a brown paper parcel, she folded her plump, round arms on the counter, and leaning over them in a luxuriously cozy position, accosted the boy. “Well, Jimmy, what shall we put up for you? One never sees any of your folks lately. Seem to have took their trade somewhere else?” James went close up to the counter, and fixed his great, hungry eyes on hers: the light from a swinging lamp overhead fell upon his face, and the kind woman read something there that made her heart ache. “Why, Jimmy, my dear boy, what is it? No trouble, I hope, beyond the great loss?” Had the woman been cold or angry, that brave boy would have faced both without a tear; but now, sudden moisture sparkled in his eyes, and he winked his long, black lashes over and over again to break it up while he was speaking. “We haven’t traded here lately, Mrs. Smith, because we had no money, and your husband got tired of trusting.” “Who told you so?” “He did.” “Then he—— Well, he’s one of the best fellows that ever lived. Does it all for the sake of me and the children—you must understand that, youngster. He’s generous as the day, is my husband. Now what is it you want just at present?”