said a drawing twenty times the size would cost him only $8.
'I had just enough money to buy my ferry ticket back to New York.I felt so sad and hopeless .I just didn't want to live another day.Perhaps I looked the way I felt,for I saw him on a seat opposite me.He looked at me as if he understood. He was nice-looking but above all, he looked kind. When you are tired or unhappy or hopeless, kindness means a great deal.
'But I felt I couldn't fight any more. I got up and walked out, towards the side of the ferry-boat. No one was there, and I just slipped quietly over the rail and dropped into the water. Oh,Hetty,it was so cold.
'But I didn't care. And then I felt that somebody else was in the water beside me, holding me up.He had followed me,and had jumped in to save me.
'Somebody threw a life-belt, and he made me put my head and arms through it. Then the ferryboat came back for us, and they pulled us on board.Oh,Hetty! I was so ashamed! And then some men like policemen came, and he gave them his visiting card.
'"The lady dropped her bag on the edge of the boat, outside the rail,"he told them. "I saw her.She tried to get it,and fell into the water".
'Then some ladies on the boat took me down to the engine room and got me almost dry.When the boat landed,he came and put me in a taxi. He was all wet too,but he laughed, as if he thought it was all a joke.He begged me to tell him my name and address,but I wouldn't tell him because I was so ashamed'.
'That was silly, child,'said Hetty kindly.'Now wait while I turn up the gas a little. Oh, how I wish we had an onion!.
'Then he raised his hat.'went on Cecilia,'and said,"Very well, but I'll find you anyway".Then he gave money to the taxi driver and told him to take me where I wanted to go. and he hasn't found me yet!'.
‘Oh, this is a big town, ’said Hetty. ‘The stew’s cooking well, but—oh! for an onion!’
The beef and potatoes smelt wonderful, yet something wasn’t there, some ingredient was missing.
‘I nearly drowned in that river, ‘said Cecilia, shivering.
‘It must have more water in it, ‘said Hetty, ‘the stew I mean. I’ll go and get some at the tap’.
‘It smells good, ‘said the artist.
‘That nasty old North River?’ said Hetty. ‘I think it smells like soap factories and wet dogs—oh, you mean the stew. Well, I wish we had an onion for it. Did he look rich?’
‘First of all,’ said Cecilia, ‘he looked kind. I’m sure he was rich, but that isn’t important.When he took out his wallet to pay the taxi driver, I saw hundreds of dollars in it. And I looked out of the taxi and saw him leaving the ferry station in a motor-car, with a driver. The driver gave him his coat to put on, for he was still wet through.’
‘What a fool!’ said Hetty shortly.
‘Oh, the driver wasn’t wet,’ breathed Cecilid, ‘and he drove the car very nicely.’
‘I mean you,’ give said Hetty, ‘for not giving him your address.’
Hetty took a jug and set off towards the tap on the landing. Just then a young man came down from the stairs above. He was nicely dressed, but he looked pale and worried. In his hand he carried an onion, a smooth, solid, shining onion as big as an orange.
Hetty stopped. So did the young man. The young man saw the light of battle in Hetty’s eye and coughed nervously.
‘Excuse me,’ said Hetty. and she spoke as sweetly as her sharp voice allowed her, ‘but did you find that onion on the stairs? I lost one through a hole in the paper bag, and I’ve just come to look for it.’
The young man coughed again. Then, he called up all his courage, and faced his attacker bravely.
‘No,’ he said in a hoarse voice. ‘I didn’t find it on the stairs. Jack Bevans on the top floor gave it to me. If you don’t believe me, ask him. I’ll wait here until you do.’
Bevans was an unsuccessful writer. Hetty knew all about him. ‘Say, do you live in the Vallambrosa?’ she asked the young man.
‘I do not,’ said the young man. ‘I come here to see Bevans sometimes. He’s my friend.’
‘What are you going to do with that onion,--if you’ll excuse my asking?’ said Hetty.
‘I’m going to eat it.’
‘Raw?’
‘Yes,as soon as I get home.’
‘Haven’t you got anything else to eat with it?’ The young man thought for a moment. ‘No,’ he said, ‘there’s nothing at all in my place. I think old Jack’s in the same position too.’
‘Man,’ said Hetty, ‘you’ve known trouble too.’
‘Lots,’ said the onion owner. ‘But this onion is mine, and I came by it honestly. Now, if you will excuse me, I must go