Eva took off her bonnet, and, kneeling down by her sister’s couch, kissed her tenderly. “Why, Ruthy, how warm your cheek is! How your arms cling to me! What is the matter? It seems like joy—but how can that come here?” “A pleasant thing has happened, Eva, dear. You are invited to a splendid party in the Fifth Avenue. Look here!” Eva caught her breath. An invitation to her! She took the square fold of paper, and, dazzled by the monogram, began to examine it with that nervous curiosity which makes so many people hesitate to learn the truth at once. “It is from Mrs. Carter, the sister of that gentleman who looked over my drawings. Such a cheerful, kind woman! She brought it herself, that there might be no mistake, and will send her own carriage for you. Isn’t it delightful?” “Oh, how I wish it possible!” exclaimed Eva, dropping the invitation from her hand with a pang of absolute despair. “That is what so many people were talking about: all the customers were full of it. I think Mr. Harold has an invitation. But it is of no use; I wish she had not brought it.” “Oh, Eva!” “It is just cruel,” answered the girl, throwing herself into a chair, and clasping both hands over her eyes to hide her tears. “But you are going, Eva. I promised it.” “_You_ promised! poor darling!” “I did, indeed. So just wipe your eyes, and let me tell you something. Look here! Hush, now! do not cry out!” Here Ruth took a twenty-dollar note from under her pillow, and held it up before Eva’s eyes. “Ruth, Ruth, where _did_ you get that?” cried the girl, in utter amazement. “Oh, _I_ have been doing bits of work for it on the sly. Eva! Eva! I won’t keep anything from you. Look here! and here! I have earned it all with my pictures, that you thought so pretty. This is for you. Stoop down, and let me whisper what I mean to do with the rest.” Eva stooped down, and lifted her head again, all in a glow of delight. “Oh, Ruthy! it seems like fairy-work! You have taken away my breath!” “They will take more; and that gentleman will teach me how to give them greater perfection. You see it is no dream, sister!” “And it was your genius that got me this invitation, Ruth,” said Eva, with grateful enthusiasm. “I could not understand it before. It seems almost possible that I may go!” “Almost! It is quite possible! I have been lying here, with my eyes on the ceiling, thinking over the dress. It must be lovely, you know, but not cost more than this one bill. White tarletan, I should say, with a long train, a flounce or two, and rows on rows of broad, puffy, ruches. Crimson roses in your hair, and a little cluster on your bosom. No! it shall be one, fragrant and half blown, on the left shoulder. No other ornaments.” “Of course not, you foolish darling! How am I to get them?”