Fan pursued her walk to the Serpentine, with a new delicious sensation in
her heart. It was so strange and sweet to be spoken to by a lady, a
stranger, and treated like an equal! And in the days that were not so
long ago with what sad desire in her eyes had she looked at smiling
beautiful faces, like this lady's face, and no smile and no gentle word
had been bestowed on her, and no glance that did not express pity or
contempt!

At the head of the Serpentine she stood for ten or fifteen minutes to
watch the children and nursemaids feeding the swans and ducks. The swans
were very stately and graceful, the ducks very noisy and contentious, and
it was great fun to see them squabbling over the crumbs of bread. But
after leaving the waterside she came upon a scene among the great elms
and chestnuts close by which amused her still more. Some poor ragged
children--three boys and a girl--were engaged in making a great heap of
the old dead fallen leaves, gathering them in armfuls and bringing them
to one spot. By-and-by the little girl came up with a fresh load, and as
she stooped to put it on the pile, the boys, who had all gathered round,
pushed her over and covered her with a mass of old leaves; then, with a
shout of laughter at their rough joke, they ran away. She struggled out
and stood up half-choked with dust, her face covered with dirt, and dress
and hair with the black half-rotten leaves. As soon as she got her breath
she burst out in a prolonged howl, while the big tears rushed out, making
channels on her grimy cheeks.

"Oh, poor little girl, don't cry," said Fan, going up to her, but the
child only howled the louder. Then Fan remembered her money and Mary's
words, and taking out a penny she offered it to the little girl.
Instantly the crying ceased, the child clutched the penny in her dirty