"He must be just like a dozen other Englishmen in there," he said.
"And they wouldn't give me time to ask each one if he were your uncle."

The little girl sighed, and said, "It doesn't matter, thank you," and,
sitting down again on the seat, resumed her patient waiting, drooping
forward with eyes rather dim.

Tinker studied her face, and his keen eye told him what was wrong.

"Have you had dejeuner?" he said sharply.

"No-o-o," said the little girl reluctantly.

"Then you've had nothing since your coffee this morning?"

"No, but it doesn't matter. Uncle is rather forgetful," said the
little girl, but her lips moved at the thought of food as a hungry
child's will.

"This won't do at all! Come along with me. It's rather late, but
we'll find something."

Her face brightened for a moment; but she shook her head, and said,
"No, I mustn't go away from here. Uncle might come back, and he would
be so angry if he had to look for me."

Tinker shrugged his shoulders, turned on his heel, and was gone. She
looked after him sadly. She would have liked him to stay a little
longer; it was so nice to talk to an English boy after ten days in this
strange land; and he seemed such a nice boy. But she only drooped a
little more, and stared out over the bright sea with misty eyes,
composing herself to endure her hunger.

Tinker went swiftly to the restaurant of the Hotel des Princes, where
the waiters greeted him with affectionate grins, and, addressing
himself to the manager, set forth his new friend's plight, and his
wishes. The manager fell in with them on the instant, only too pleased
to have the chance of obliging his most popular customer; and, in five
minutes, Tinker left the restaurant followed by a waiter bearing a tray
of dainties, all carefully chosen to tempt the appetite of a child.
They took their way to the gardens, and the little girl brightened up
at the sight of the returning Tinker. But when the waiter set the tray
on the seat, she flushed painfully, and though she could not draw her
hungry eyes away from the food, she stammered, "T-t-thank you very
m-m-much. B-b-but I haven't any money."

Tinker gave the waiter a couple of francs, and bade him come for the
tray in half an hour. Then he said cheerfully, "That's all right. The
food's paid for; and whether you eat it or not makes no difference. In
fact, you may as well."

The child looked from his face to the food and back again, wavering;
then