Page:The Toll of the Bush.pdf/119

‘Does he stop long as a rule?’

‘No. When he wakes up he begins to cry and carry on, but mother takes no notice of him. Then after a bit he says he will reform and never touch drink again, and then he goes away to look for a job; and that’s the last of him—till next time.’

‘Does he never give you anything at all?’

‘Almost never.’

‘Then how on earth do you live?’

‘Mother gets money somewhere. Mrs. Gird gives her some, and other things. She gave me these clothes. Oh, I hate it!’

Robert looked contemplatively at the clothes and the desperate young face, then he turned away and gazed fixedly at the bushes.

‘I was thinking, Lena, I might do a great deal for you—if you wouldn’t mind.’

‘What could you do?’ asked Lena quickly, her eyes on his averted face.

‘I could give you things, you know—clothes and such, anything you liked. I have plenty of money, and I could get a great deal more if I wanted.’

‘Why don’t you want?’ Lena asked, her attention diverted by this surprising statement.

‘I suppose it’s pride,’ Robert said, after a thoughtful pause.

‘And don’t you think I have any pride?’ Lena asked. ‘Besides, you do give me things, as it is.’

‘Tea and sugar,’ Robert observed contemptuously.

‘More than that.’

‘Soap,’ said Robert, considering.