“Well,” she said, drawing a reticule-purse from her pocket by its gold chains, and taking from that a roll of money, “if you are content with twenty-five, I don’t mind throwing in a trifle, so we will make it thirty. There it is—six twenties; and I must say, it does me good to pay it over. Just roll it up, and buy yourself something nice with it. There! there!” Mrs. Carter came close to Ruth, and bent over her with the money fluttering from her gloved fingers. Instead of receiving it with smiles, as the good woman expected, the young creature, half rose from her cushions, wound both arms around that short neck, and kissed the smiling face with a passionate outburst of gratitude, which awoke all the warm genial womanhood of Mrs. Carter’s nature into active life. “Why, why, dear child! what have I done, that you should smother me with kisses, and hold on to me as if—as if you were my own child, as I wish from the bottom of my heart you were?” “Oh, madam, you are so good. You have made me the happiest creature that ever lived,” cried Ruth. “There, there, don’t set me off again,” said Mrs. Carter, patting both those trembling little hands with her own. “Does a little money make you so happy? Well, just at first, I remember, it does. But then one gets used to it. By-and-by you won’t care. Come, now, put up your money, and the next picture will be worth more. Ross is going to show you how to touch ’em up; and he can do it, if any one can, for he belongs to some great pictur academy across the seas, and is A. number one at painting.” In a soft, motherly fashion, Mrs. Carter laid the young girl back upon her couch, and began smoothing her beautiful hair. In the fullness of her content, she answered back with broad sympathy the smiles that came around those parted lips, and the look of ineffable happiness that filled those dove-like eyes, with something more beautiful than sunshine. “It is true! it is real! and I _am_ good for something!” murmured Ruth, holding the money up that she might feast her eyes upon it. “Oh, madam! God sent you here! I was weak and helpless; while others worked, I could only pray. See how the blessed Lord has answered me! I know it is not my poor little pictures, but your goodness that has done this—my prayers and your goodness!” “You are just a lovely little darling, anyhow; but here is some one coming. There, now, we are ready.” Mrs. Carter gathered up the floating notes, crushed them into a ball, and hid them under the pillow of the couch. Then she wiped Ruth’s eyes with her cobweb handkerchief, passed it over her own wet lashes, and called out, “Come in!” as a vigorous knock sounded from the front door. CHAPTER XVIII. OLD FRIENDS.