‘Yes,’ said Dick; ‘I’ll go now.’

‘No, not now,’ said Kitty clinging to his sleeve.  ’She says have your dinner an’ then go.  An’ oh, Dickie, she’s been crying, an’ she’s all white, an’—­an’—­’ At this the little messenger began to cry too.

‘Is she?’ said Dick, sadly.  ‘When my mine turns out rich I’m goin’ to give her a fortune.’

‘Oh, are you, Dickie?’ said Kitty, beaming through her tears.

‘Yes,’ answered he gravely; ‘and then she’ll marry Harry Hardy an’ be happy ever after.’

‘My, that will be nice,’ murmured Kitty, much comforted.

‘You ain’t a bad little girl.’  He felt called upon to reward her.  ’You can walk as far as the fence with me if you like.’

Kitty was properly grateful, and they walked together to the furze-covered fence.

‘Please don’t tell anyone you’re going to see her, Miss Christina says,’ whispered Kitty, at parting.

‘Right y’are,’ Dick said, delighted with the mystery.  ’I say, Kitty, I think p’raps I’ll give you a fortune too.’

‘Oh, Dickie, no; not a whole fortune, I’m too little,’ cried Kitty, overwhelmed.

‘Yes, a whole fortune,’ he persisted grandly; ‘an’ maybe I’ll marry you.’

‘Will you, Dickie, will you?  Oh, that is kind!’

‘Here.’  He had turned over the treasures in his pocket and found a scrap of gilt filagree off a gorgeous valentine.  ‘Here’s somethin’.’

Kitty thought the gift very beautiful, and accepted it thankfully for its own sake and the sake of the giver, as an earnest of the fortune to come; and went her way happy but duly impressed with a sense of the responsibilities those riches must impose.

Harry Hardy had loitered behind his mates on the flat, and when the boy caught up to him again he turned to him with nervous anxiety.

‘What did that girl want with you, Dick?’ he asked.  I heard her mention Miss Shine’s name.’

He noted the set, stubborn look with which he was now familiar fall upon the boy’s face like a mask, and he questioned no more on that point.

‘Dick;’ he said earnestly, ’you’ll help her if you can.  She’s all alone, you know; not a soul to stand by her, not a soul.  You might get a chance sometimes to make things easier for her.  Would you?’

’My word! ’said Dick simply.

Harry wrung his hand, and Dick, looking into his face, was puzzled by its expression; he looked, Dick thought, as he did on that Sunday morning when he wished to flog the superintendent before the whole congregation.

‘You’re a brick—­a perfect brick!’ said Harry.

‘I’d do anythin’ fer her,’ Dick replied.

‘Thanks, old man.  I’ll never forget it.’

It did not surprise the boy that Harry should thank him for services to be rendered to Miss Chris; he thought he understood the situation perfectly, and it was all very sad and perfectly consistent with his romantic ideas of such matters.