“I don’t see but that convicts me.” Ray put out his hand as if to take the note, and then withdrew it. “I suppose I ought to take it,” he began. “But if I did, I should just spend it on myself. And the fact is, I had saved it on myself, or else, perhaps, I shouldn’t have given it to the conductor for you.” He told them how he had economized on his journey, and they laughed together at the picture he gave of his satisfaction in his self-denial. “Oh, I know that _good_ feeling!” said Mrs. Denton. “Yes, but you can’t imagine how _superior_ I felt when I handed my dollar over to the conductor. _Good_ is no name for it; and I’ve simply gloated over my own merit ever since. Miss Hughes, you must keep that dollar, and give it to somebody who needs it!” This was not so novel as it seemed to Ray; but the sisters glanced at each other as if struck with its originality. Then the girl looked at him steadily out of her serene eyes a moment, as if thinking what she had better do, while Mrs. Denton cooed her pleasure in the situation. “I knew just as _well_, when the conductor said it was a lady passenger sent it! He said it like a sort of after-thought, you know; he turned back to say it just after he left us.” “Well, I will do that,” said the girl to Ray; and she carried the money back to her room. “Do sit down!” said Mrs. Denton to Ray when she came back. The community of experience, and the wonder of the whole adventure, launched them indefinitely forward towards intimacy in their acquaintance. “We were awfully excited when my sister came home and said she had seen you at Mr. Chapley’s.” Her sister did not deny it; but when Mrs. Denton added the question, “Are you an author?” she protested--“Jenny!” “I wish I were,” said Ray; “but I can’t say I am, yet. That depends upon whether Mr. Chapley takes my book.” He ventured to be so frank because he thought Miss Hughes probably knew already that he had offered a manuscript; but if she knew, she made no sign of knowing, and Mrs. Denton said: “Mr. Chapley gives my sister all the books he publishes. Isn’t it splendid? And he lets her bring home any of the books she wants to, out of the store. Are you acquainted in his family?” “No; I only know Mr. Brandreth, his son-in-law.” “My sister says he’s very nice. Everybody likes Mr. Brandreth. Mr. Chapley is an old friend of father’s. I should think his family would come to see us, some of them. But they haven’t. Mr. Chapley comes ever so much.” Ray did not know what to say of a fact which Mrs. Denton did not suffer to remain last in his mind. She went on, as if it immediately followed. “We are reading Browning now. But my husband likes Shelley the best of all. Which is your favorite poet?”