Savage went away, with his mind and heart full of the scene he had just witnessed. How poor they were? What barren destitution surrounded those two women: yet, how lady-like they seemed. There was nothing in their poverty to revolt his taste, fastidious as it was. Neat and orderly poverty carried a certain dignity with it. He thoroughly respected these two women; their condition appealed to every manly feeling in his nature. Though distrustful from habit and education, he had faith in them, and went home full of generous impulses, wondering how he could do them good. Meantime, Robert went back to the room, radiant. “Here,” he said, thrusting a bun into Joseph’s hand, “break it in two, and give grandma half; Anna and I will wait awhile. Here is the money, sister; I got it changed at the baker’s, where they wouldn’t trust us a loaf yesterday. You didn’t know it, but I asked ’em. Didn’t their eyes open when I took out that bill. How does the bun taste, Josey? Why, if the fellow hasn’t finished up his half already. Here, give me back some of that money; I’m off for a supper. There is three sticks of wood in the closet, and a little charcoal; just throw them on the fire, and let ’em blaze away; who cares for the expense! Hurra!” Away the boy went, bounding down the stairs like a young deer, leaving Anna and the grandmother in a state of unusual cheerfulness. They raked up the embers into a little glowing pile, crossed the wood over them, and filled the tea-kettle as a pleasant preliminary. The hearth, clean and cold before, was swept again; and as the darkness closed in, the end of a candle was brought forth and lighted, revealing the desolate room in gleams of dull light, that struggled hard against the shadows. “How pleasant it is,” murmured the old lady, leaning toward the fire, and rubbing her withered hands over each other. “See, darling, how the firelight dances on the hearth. Hark, now! the kettle is beginning to sing! That means supper, Joseph.” “Are you hungry, grandma?” asked the boy, looking up to that kind, old face. “Yes, dear, a little.” “But you wouldn’t eat a bit of the bun.” “That was because I liked to see you eat it.” “Oh, how nice it was! When will Robert come back with more?” “Here I am!” cried Robert, dashing against the door, and forcing it open with his foot. “Here I am, with lots of good things. There’s a ring of sausages. Here’s bread and butter, and a little tea for grandma, bless her darling old heart; and just one slice of sponge-cake for Anna—cake is awful dear now, or I’d have got enough to treat all round. There’s a paper of sugar, and—and here they go all on the table at once! Sort ’em out, Anna, while I run for a pint of milk, and an apple to roast for grandma. I forgot that. How she does like roasted apples. Get out the frying-pan, and bustle about, all of you. Isn’t that young Mr. Savage a splendid fellow? How I’d like to be a drummer-boy in his regiment. Hurry up, Anna, I’m after the milk!”