She had
but said--in words--that some men were safer than others, which every
one knew to be true; that Peter was rather foolish about women (so he
was--ridiculously soft, not modern in his ideas at all!), and that it
would be better for the girl to accept help from her--Ena--than from a
young man. It was very good advice, and nothing Peter ought to be
angry about, even if he should ever hear--which, pray heaven, he might
not! As Ena reminded herself how wise and tactful she had been, a
faint glow stole into the chilly zone round her heart, just as you can
heat a cold foot by concentrating yourself on telling it that it is
warm.
"I want to be your _friend_," she went on sweetly. "Perhaps you aren't
very rich? As girl to girl, let me offer you a little, little
present--or a loan--a hundred dollars. I've got it with me---"
"Oh, thank you many times, but I couldn't possibly!" cried Win. "I
don't need it. I have lots of money."
"I'm glad--though I should have liked the pleasure," said Ena. And she
genuinely would, because the act of giving would have pumped warmth
into the cold place without waiting for time to change the
temperature.
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