16 THE LAST PENNY.

 

nyworth of tobacco. For the first time a
thought of self-denial entered his mind, as
he stood by the door, with his hand in his
pocket, feeling for his solitary copper.

“This would buy Lizzy an orange,” he
said to himself. “ But then,” was quickly
added, “I would have no tobacco to-day,
nor to-morrow, for I won’t be paid for these
boots before Saturday, when Barton gets
his wages.”

Then came a long, hesitating pause.
There was before the mind of Claire the
image of the faint and feeble child with the
refreshing orange to her lips; and there
was also the image of himself encheered
for two long days by his pipe. But could
he for a moment hesitate, if he really loved
that sick child? is asked. Yes, he could
hesitate, and yet love the little sufferer;
for to one of his order of mind_and habits
of acting and feeling, a self-indulgence like
that of the pipe, or a regular draught of
beer, becomes so much like second nature,
that it is as it were a part of the very life;