When he entered the room he found little Mary Henson with her basket and her dog, her eyes very red with weeping, and the dog whining as though she had heard the whole plan of separation from those she loved in the poor home. “I’ve brought you my Blackie, sir, to sell her to you. Mamma needs money for rent, and as you are rich I thought you would like to buy her. She will love you very much, and kiss your face. She always sleeps with me, and perhaps she would sleep with you.” “And can you spare her?” said the millionaire. “I fear she would cry for her former home. It seems to me that you have been crying.” “Oh, yes, I did cry some when I kissed her the last time, and mamma and Helen and James all cried, because, you see, Mr. Colebrook, she is all we have to love!” “Well, what do you ask for her?” “I don’t know. Mamma owes ten dollars for rent for the two months. I think, maybe, if you would pay that for her you could pay half now, and the landlady might wait for the other half, because she would know you would surely pay. I thought of selling Blackie to her, but Blackie needs a very nice home. Mme. Wainwright gave her to me, so you see Blackie comes from a good family, sir, and puts up with our poor home because we all love her so.” “Well, I will take her,” said Mr. Colebrook, “and if she cries I will send for you to comfort her.” All this time Blackie was laying her head close to the child, as much as to say: “We will not be separated.” When the millionaire attempted to take her she growled, and then looked plaintively toward her little mistress. “He’ll be very good to you, Blackie,” said the child, who could not stop her tears. She wanted to sell the dog, and yet if she could only have the money and Blackie too! But that was impossible. “I have no little girl to pet the dog,” said the great man, “and I fear she will be lonely. You must come and see her,” and he put the ten dollars into the child’s hand, bade her good afternoon, and closed the door on a very sad little heart. Blackie crouched down in her basket as though the fine house were of no importance, and whined piteously for the little girl who had left her. Mary sobbed all the way home, but she clasped the ten dollars tightly, and was thankful that they could all have a house over their heads for a little longer. “I’ve brought the ten dollars, mamma,” said the child, and she laid it in her mother’s lap and stole away to weep alone over her sorrow. Mrs. Henson was very sad over the matter. If she could earn but ten extra dollars! But she could not. The dog was probably not worth over a quarter of that sum, and the rich man had bought her just to help the family. Well, Blackie would have a home of luxury, and that was a comfort. Hon. Mr. Colebrook had become interested in the child, and called at the little home a few days later to see how the widow and her family were prepared to meet the coming cold weather.