Clara lay on the bed, her face
turned so that Sidney could not see it. He spoke to her, and she
just moved her arm, but gave no reply.
'Do you wish to be left alone?' he asked, in a subdued and troubled
voice.
'Yes.'
'Shall I take May downstairs?'
'If you like. Don't speak to me now.'
He remained standing by the bed for a minute, then turned his eyes
on the child, who smiled at him. He could not smile in return, but
went quietly away.
'It's one of her bad days,' whispered Hewett, who met him at the
foot of the stairs. 'She can't help it, poor girl!'
'No, no.'
Sidney ate what was put before him without giving a thought to it.
When his eyes wandered round the kitchen the disorder and dirt
worried him, but on that subject he could not speak. His hunger
appeased, he looked steadily at Amy, and said in a kindly tone:
'Father tells me you've had a stroke of bad luck, Amy. We must have
a try at another place, mustn't we? Hollo, there's a window broken!
Has Tom been playing at cricket in the room, eh?'
The girls kept silence.
'Come and let's make out the list for our shopping this afternoon,'
he continued. 'I'm afraid there'll have to be something the less for
that window, girls; what do _you_ say?'
'We'll do without a pudding to-morrow, Sidney,' suggested Annie.
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