ay it cannot ver' well be help'," she
murmured. "It is the snow; it haf overtaken us."

"It just _can_ be helped!" cried Bess, suddenly, and she whirled and
fairly ran forward into the chair car. Nan did not notice her chum's
departure at the moment. The baby had seized her finger and was smiling
at her. Such a pretty little fellow, but so weak and ill in appearance.

"Oh, madame!" Nan cried in her best French, "is it not terrible? We may
be here for hours."

"As the good God wills," said the woman, patiently. "We cannot devise or
shape Fate, mademoiselle."

Nan stood up and shook her head, saying vigorously, and in her own
tongue, for she was too much moved to remember Mademoiselle Loro's
teaching:

"But we need not accept Fate's determination as final, I am sure! There
is a good God, as you say, madam. This child must have food, and--"

At the moment Bess rushed in carrying the paste-board box containing the
remains of their lunch. "Here!" she cried, dramatically. "Give the poor
little fellow this."

"Oh, little ladies!" responded the woman, "have a care. You will have
need of this food yourselves."

"No, no!" cried Bess, the impetuous. "We are stuffed to repletion.
Aren't we, Nan?"

"We have certainly eaten much more recently than madam and the little
one," agreed Nan, heartily.

The woman opened the box. The child sat up with a crow of delight. The
mother gave him one of the stale crullers, and he began gnawing on it
with all the gusto of a hungry dog on a bone.

"Take something yourself, madam," commanded Nan. "And more for the
little fellow."

"Let 'em have it all, Nan," whispered the impulsive Bess. "Goodness! we
can get on somehow."

But Nan was more observant than her chum. There were other children in
the car besides this little fellow. In fact, in the seat but one behind
the French woman and her baby, a girl of six or seven years was
clinging to the seat-back and staring with hungry eyes at the broken
food in the box.

"Gracious!" gasped Bess, seeing this little one when Nan had nudged her
and pointed. "Gracious! that's the picture of Famine, herself."

She seized one of the greasy little pies and thrust it into the child's
hands. The latter began devouring it eagerly. Bess saw other hungry
mouths open and eager hands outstretched.

"Oh, Nan!" she almost sobbed. "We've got to give them all some. All the
poor little children!"

Her chum did not try to curb Bess Harley's generosity. There