father's lifetime.

His thoughts were interrupted in a manner somewhat ludicrous, by the
crazy girl who sat next to him coolly appropriating to herself his bowl
of soup, having already disposed of her own.

"Look," said Aunt Lucy, quickly, calling Paul's attention, "you are
losing your dinner."

"Never mind," said Paul, amused in spite of his sadness, "she is quite
welcome to it if she likes it; I can't eat it."

So the dinner began and ended. It was very brief and simple, occupying
less than ten minutes, and comprising only one course--unless the soup
was considered the first course, and the bread the second. Paul left
the table as hungry as he came to it. Aunt Lucy's appetite had become
accustomed to the Mudge diet, and she wisely ate what was set before
her, knowing that there was no hope of anything better.

About an hour after dinner Ben Newcome came to the door of the Poor
House and inquired for Paul.

Mrs. Mudge was in one of her crusty moods.

"You can't see him," said she.

"And why not?" said Ben, resolutely.

"Because he's busy."