At these times Mrs. Smith would turn very red, and wonder if she had done quite wisely in the first outburst of her warm-hearted charity. While Kate Gorman paused in her work now and then to shake out the child’s long skirts and settle her comfortable, where she could bury her chubby hands in the boy’s hair, and refresh herself with a vigorous pull now and then, all of which James Laurence endured with the smiling stoicism of a young Indian. CHAPTER VII. SUNSHINE. Eva Laurence was radiant that day as she walked down to the wareroom, which scarcely seemed to her like a place of toil. For the first time in weeks she had left a really cheerful home. The few days which intervened between her and the time her first wages would be paid were bridged over, and she no longer trembled with a wild fear of starvation for those she loved. Trouble might come, but nothing quite so dreadful as that. The heroism of her little brother had worked marvels, for which her heart swelled with tender gratitude. The young man, who wore that soft, amber beard, was struck by her brilliant color, and deigned, in a careless way, to compliment her upon it as she passed him. This she scarcely noticed, being so occupied with pleasant thoughts, that his condescension passed unheeded; but when Harold came up, she reached forth both hands, and, looking in his earnest face, said, “Good morning! What a lovely day it is!” “Yes, very lovely—a great change,” he murmured, pressing her hands one instant; then dropping them with a gentle sigh. “Yesterday was so gloomy,” she said; “but this——” She broke off with a faint laugh, for the sky was, in fact, clouded; and she remembered the floods of silvery light that had come through the windows the day before, mocking her anxiety, and turning her heart sick with a thought of the dear ones at home. Harold looked at her a moment in a grave, questioning way. He had seen the young clerk address her, and gave the smile on her lip, and the glow in her cheek, an interpretation that made his own greeting constrained and formal. Eva did not heed this either, the warmth at her heart was not to be chilled by a cold glance just then, even from the man who had been kindest to her. She went to a mirror, in which customers were expected to admire themselves, and stood before it smoothing her hair, graceful as a bird, and quite as unconscious of her own beauty. Just then a party came into the show-room, and Harold turned his attention on them, while Eva stole away from the mirror, and stood ready to be called, without one trace of the shrinking pride which had made her so sensitive the day before. The lady, who soon required her attention, was a stout, full-featured dame, arrayed in costly silk, flounced, looped, and puffed, until the rich material was lost in a confusion of trimmings, which fluttered, like the plumage of an angry bird, as she walked.