said, forgetting the fire. "They've been burnt out. Let's talk to them."
The two girls approached the unfortunate creatures, who were wailing
loudly, as if at a wake.
"Poor devils!" exclaimed Helena. "I am so glad I have some silver with
me."
"And I have nothing to give them," thought Magdalena, bitterly; but she
was too proud to speak. She stared at them, her brain a medley of new
sensations, as Helena went about, questioning, fascinating,
sympathising, giving. It was the first time she had seen poverty; she
had barely heard of its existence; it had never occurred to her that
great romanticists condescended to borrow from life. It was not abject
poverty that she witnessed, by any means. There were no hollow cheeks
here, no pallid faces, no shrunken limbs. It was, save for the passing
distress, to which they were not unaccustomed, a very jolly, hearty,
contented poverty. Their belongings were certainly mean, but solid and
sufficient. Nevertheless, to Magdalena, who had been surrounded by
luxury from her birth, and had rarely been in a street of less
importance than her own, these commonly clad creatures, weeping over
their cheap household goods, seemed the very dregs of the earth. Her
keen enjoyment fled. She was sure she could never be happy again with so
much misery in the world. If her father would only--she recalled his
contempt for charities, the prohibition he had laid on her mother. She
determined to pray all night to the Virgin to soften his heart. When the
Virgin had been allowed a reasonable time, she would beg him to give her
a monthly allowance to devote to the poor. The Virgin had failed her
many times, but must surely hearken to so worthy a petition as this. She
stood apart. No one noticed her. She had nothing to give. They were
showering blessings upon Helena, who was walking about with a cocky
little stride, well pleased with herself.
Suddenly Helena wheeled and ran over to Magdalena.
"I've given away my last red," she said. "It's lucky I paid for that
hack in advance. Let's get out. Those I haven't given any to will be
down on me in a minute. Besides, it's getting late. A-ou-u!"
A policeman had tapped her roughly on the shoulder. She gazed at him in
speechless terror for a half-moment, then gasped, "W-h-a-t do you want?"
"I want you two young uns for the lock-up," he said curtly. The
struggling crowd had lashed his pugnacity and ensanguined his temper. As
an additional indignity, the sal
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