Had she fainted? Brenda, bending over her, laid her hand on the girl's head. Aroused by the touch, the child raised her head, showing a face that was a picture of misery. Sobs shook her slight frame, and she allowed a kind-looking saleswoman who came from behind a counter to lead her away from the gaze of the curious. Meanwhile the salesman who had served Brenda brushed the bits of glass into a pasteboard-box cover. "I'm very sorry," he said politely, "but we cannot replace that vase. As I told you, it was in every way unique. However, there are other pieces similar to it--a little higher-priced, perhaps--but we will make a discount, to compensate--" "But who pays for this?" Brenda interrupted, inclining her head toward the broken glass. "Oh, do not concern yourself about that, it is entirely our loss. Of course, if you prefer, we can return you your money, but still--" "Will they make that poor little girl pay for the glass?" "Well, of course she broke it; it was entirely her fault; she let it slip from her fingers. She is always very careless." "But I paid for it, didn't I?" asked Brenda. "That is my money, is it not?" for he still held a bill between his fingers. "Why, yes; as I told you, you can have your money back." "I have not asked for my money, but I should like to have the vase that I bought to take home with me. It will go into a small box now." "Do you mean these pieces?" The salesman was almost too bewildered to speak. "Why, of course, they belong to me, do they not?" and a smile twinkled around the corners of Brenda's mouth. At last the salesman understood. "It's very kind of you," he said, emptying the pieces from the cover into a small pasteboard box. "Mayn't we send it home?" "Yes, after all, you may send it. Please have it packed carefully;" and this time both Brenda and the salesman smiled outright. "It's the second thing," said the latter, "that Maggie has broken lately. She's bound to lose her place. It took a week's wages to pay for the cup, and I don't know what she could have done about this. It would have taken more than six weeks' pay." "I should like to see her," said Brenda. "Can I go where she is?" "Certainly, she's in the waiting-room, just over there." "Come, come, Maggie," said Brenda gently, when she found the girl still in tears; "stop crying, you won't have to pay for the glass vase. You know I bought it, and I'm having the pieces sent home." As the girl gazed at Brenda in astonishment her tears ceased to flow from her red-rimmed eyes. But the young lady's words seemed so improbable that in a moment sobs again shook her frame. "It cost twenty dollars," she said; "I heard him say it. I can't ever pay it in the world, and I don't want to go to prison." "Hush, hush, child!" cried a saleswoman who had stayed with her. "You must stop crying, for I have to go back to my place." She looked inquiringly at Brenda, and Brenda in a few words explained what she had done.