Duke seemed to be stunned by the loss--"sit ye down, and I'll fetch what
water I can in my cap, or we'll have missy's foot very bad, and that 'ud
be worser than losin' the money."

He was back in a moment with water enough to soak the diminutive
handkerchief, with which he gently bathed away some of the blood, so
that he could see the wound. It was a bad cut, but it was not now
bleeding so much. The little surgeon pressed the sides gently together,
which made Pamela give a little scream of pain.

"Don't cry, missy dear," he said. "It'll not hurt so much when I've tied
it up. Ye've not another hankerwich? I'd like to lay this one over the
cut--it's nice and wet--and tie it on with summat else."

"I fink there's one in my pocket," said Pamela, and when Duke had
extracted it, and with its help the poor foot was tied up much more
scientifically than before, she sat up and looked about her, less white
and miserable by a good deal, thanks to their new friend.

"What a nice boy you are," she said condescendingly. "What's your name?
Is that---- ugly man" she was going to have said, but she hesitated,
afraid of hurting the boy's feelings--"is the man your father?" and she
dropped her voice.

"Bless yer, no," he replied with real fervency, "and that's one thing
I'm thankful for. Mick my father; _no_, thank you, missy. My name's Tim,
leastways so I'm called. Diana she says it's short for Timothy, but
Tim's long enough."

"And who's Diana?" asked the children, beginning to forget their own