“Is that so?” said Abel, in a tone of compassion. “Well, then, leave the sign to me; I will order it this very day, and the moment it is ready it shall be brought to you. I’ll also go security for your rent.” At these words Marguerite’s eyes filled with tears, glad tears, and, clasping one of his hands, she pressed it warmly; while Abel thought to himself, “How full of sentiment she is! Poor creature!” “Oh! what a blessed thing it is to be rich,” exclaimed the girl presently. “But all rich people, sir, are not like you—no, indeed.” “Never mind my wealth,” said Abel; “we’ll talk about that some other time. Go ahead, now, and carry out my notion; put implicit trust in me. Everything will come out right in the end.” Again Marguerite pressed his hand—her heart was too full for words—after which Abel Day went away, promising to return before the week was ended to see how she was getting on. The girl followed him with her eyes until he was lost to view, wondering who he could be. “Well, whoever he is,” she thought to herself, “he is a real gentleman. True, his clothes are rather worn; but we cannot judge a man by his clothes. Yes, he is a real gentleman, and different from any other that I have ever seen. He didn’t beat me down in my price; no, he bought all my frogs and paid me what I asked. Anybody else would have forced me to take three dollars and a half or three dollars. I might even have let them go for two and a half. But no, he isn’t like other rich persons. And, oh! may God bless him and make him happy; for I am sure from his looks there is something weighing on his heart.” During the next few days Marguerite’s thoughts constantly turned upon her strange friend, who had evidently been in downright earnest and kept his word; for the sign-board was promptly sent to her, and she could not contain her delight when she saw it hanging above the doorway of the little store which she hired. True to his promise, Abel Day came soon again to visit Marguerite, bringing money wherewith to pay her month’s rent in advance. It seemed to do him good to talk to her, and his face brightened when she told him how many people had already entered the Frog Emporium. “And every one, sir, who eats a plate of my frogs declares they are better than an oyster-stew. And they say, too, that the sign-board makes them roar with laughter and entices them in whether they will or no. O sir! how can I thank you enough for what you have done for me?” “Don’t speak any thanks,” replied Abel. “No, don’t speak any; but show your thanks by being good and virtuous. ’Tis getting down in the world leads so many to the bad. Ay, misery is the devil’s best friend. Therefore, my dear girl, improve your condition as fast as you can. Put money in the savings-bank; then when you meet any poor wretch hard up, and you have the means to help him, do it.”