Nello did not make any reply. He was too tired for anything but a dull little sob now and then, involuntary, the mere breathing of his weakness. And the highway looked so long, longer even than the fields. There was always some hope at the end of a field that deliverance might come round the corner, but a long unchangeable highway, how endless it was! They went on thus together for a little way in silence; then: “Oh, Lily, I am so hungry,” said Nello. What could she do? She was hungry too, more hungry than he was, for she had eaten nothing since the afternoon of the previous day. “I have a shilling in my pocket, but we cannot eat a shilling,” said poor Lilias. “And I have a shilling too--more than that--I have the golden sovereign Mary gave me.” “We must just hurry--hurry to the railway, Nello, for we cannot eat money, and the railway will soon take us home; or there is a place, a big station, where we could buy a cake. Oh!’ cried Lilias, with a gleam of eager satisfaction in her eyes. “What is it, Lily?” “Look, only look?” She dragged him forward by the arm in her eagerness. “Oh, a few steps further, Nello--only a few steps further--look!” The roadside cottage which had been so blank as she passed had awoke--a woman stood by the door--but the thing that caught Lilias’ eye was a few stale cakes and opaque glasses with strange confectionery in them. It was these that gave strength to her wearied feet. She hurried forward, while the woman looked at the strange little pair in wonder. “Oh, will you give us a little breakfast,” she said, “a little milk to drink, and some bread and butter for this little boy?” “Where have you come from, you two children, at this hour in the morning?” cried the woman in consternation. “Oh, we are going to the train,” said Lilias. “We are obliged to go; we must get the early train, and we don’t know, we don’t quite know when it goes; and my poor little brother has fallen into the mud--see! and--he got his breakfast so very early before he came away that he is hungry again. We have plenty of money,” cried the little girl, “plenty of money! We will give you a shilling if you will give us some milk and bread.” “A shilling--two, three shillings,” said Nello, interposing. He was so hungry; and what was the good of shillings?--you could not eat them. The woman looked at them suspiciously. They were not little tramps; they were nicely dressed children, though the little boy was so muddy. She did not see what harm it could do to take them in; likewise her heart was touched by the poor little things standing there looking up at her as though she was the arbiter of their fate. “You may come in and sit by the fire; there’s no train for two hours yet. It’s not six o’clock. Come in, you poor little things, and rest, and I’ll give you some nice hot tea. But you must tell me all the truth, for I know you’ve run away from somewhere,” she said.